


The Price of Sentiment

by Mouse9



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Mycroft being a good uncle, SAMFA2017 3rd place winner for K-T Best Adventure, Sherlolly - Freeform, Slow Burn, pretty much Molly centric, pretty much series compliant, secret!kid fic, two season arc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-09-21 16:57:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 56
Words: 95,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9558449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mouse9/pseuds/Mouse9
Summary: After helping the great Detective fake his death and taking care of him until he could leave the county, Molly receives a gift.  A gift for her and her alone.   But a gift such as this always comes with a price.(Begins sometime after TRF and continues through the end of Series four.)





	1. Chapter 1

It’d happened a week later.

A week after the fall, the autopsy, the funeral…

She was tired.  Drained, listless.  She’d been living in a whirlwind of emotions for the last couple of days and then suddenly…

Nothing.  It was all over and life could return to normal.  Not that there ever had been a normal.

She missed him.

One week after everything had finally settled, Molly had received a letter by courier.

She signed for it and shut the door to her flat.

The telly was off.  She’d gotten tired of listening to the news sully Sherlock’s name.  The man was dead…allegedly and yet they still drug him through the mud by proxy.

Damn Moriarty!  Damn him to Hell.

She couldn’t wait until Mycroft and Sherlock managed to unravel Moriarty’s entire little plot-not that it would do any good- but to see Anderson and Donovan choke on it…

She’d get a perverse satisfaction from watching them eat crow and she’d bloody well serve it to them raw.

Sitting on her couch she looked at the letter.  It felt thick and there was something hard inside the envelope; she could feel it move around when she tilted the envelope.  Her name and address was typed on the front and there was no return address.   She slid a finger underneath the flap and ripped the envelope open.  A metal key slid out along with a letter.  Her eyes watered when she recognized the handwriting.

 

_Molly-_

_I understand what helping me cost you, pretending that I don’t know what I asked is foolish and at this point, unnecessary._

_I meant what I told you that night at Bart’s; you are important, more important than you’ll ever know.  I have always seen you and I have and will always trust you._

_To that end, I leave you something.  It is completely at your discretion what you do with it; use it tomorrow, destroy it, it is yours to do with as you wish.   The card attached will direct you._

_I know it’s not what you wanted but right now, it’s all I can give you._

_I don’t know if or even when I’ll return, so if I could ask a favour; think of me from time to time._

_I remain ever yours,_

_S_

 

 

Molly tugged the vellum business card from the bottom of the letter.  She gasped loudly and the letter slipped from her fingers when she realized what he had done.


	2. Chapter 2

She waited six months.

Kept her head down and waited. 

Waited until the inquest into her involvement had cleared her, waited until John had slowly stopped coming around, waited until Inspector Lestrade had stopped noticing her.  Waited until she no longer felt as if she was being followed- _no need to pay any mind to me, I’m just little ol’ Molly Hooper, pathologist at St. Bart’s. I’m nobody important._

 

On month seven, she went to the address on a day off.

The building was glass and metal and imposing.  She took the card and the key and walked into the large building talking the lift to the Twenty-second floor.

There was open space and a glass desk when the lift doors opened.  At the desk was a thin brunette dressed in an outfit worth well more than a month’s salary for her.

The woman smiled politely as Molly approached; jeans and trainers, flower print blouse and a cat jumper.  She felt dowdy and ridiculous.

“May I assist you?”  the woman asked.  Molly dug out the metal key and held it out.

“I’m…I’m here to see Dr. Patric.”  Her voice caught.  She didn’t care, it was all or nothing now.

The woman took the key and slid it into a small metal box beside her computer.  It took a moment and eventually the woman looked up at Molly and gave her a gunine smile.

“Of course, welcome Dr. Hooper.”  She handed the key back to Molly and pressed a button on her phone.  The door to her left opened and an older brunette women stepped out.  “We were told you would be coming.  If you’ll follow Mrs. Tidwell, she’ll take you to the consultation room.  I’ll let Dr. Patric know you’re here.”

Through the door was a wonderland.  Frosted glass and plants and quiet waterfalls surrounded the open hallways.  Soft music played from hidden speakers in the walls and the comfortable looking chairs and setees were placed in area with low lighting.  Everything about this place spoke of comfort, security and calming influences.  Oddly, she’d never felt more nervous than she did at this moment.  Mrs. Tidwell led her into a room decked out in cremes and browns.  The difference felt less stark and more warm. 

“Have a seat dear, I’ll just get your numbers.”

Molly took off her coat and sat in the chair the woman had indicated.  The older woman went about getting her blood pressure, temperature, a small blood sample, height and weight.

“Don’t fret, Dr. Patric is the best at what he does,” the woman patted Molly’s suddenly cold hands.  “You’re in the best hands.”

Panic rose in her chest.  What was she doing here?  Was she ready for this kind of commitment?  She had a cat for Christ sake, taking care of another actual living human being, one that couldn’t storm off was she ready for that?  It was a lifetime commitment, no divorce or just leaving off like a spouse or friends.

Mrs. Tidwell placed a firm hand over hers and Molly looked up startled. 

“This is a huge decision dear; taking a test after a night of entertainment is one thing, actually making the conscious decision to come here and go through the procedure is entirely different.  Make sure this is what you want.”

Molly looked at the woman, her eyes and smile not pitying at all, more understanding.  An image of a cherubic faced little child with black curly hair and blue-green eyes appeared behind her eyes and she smiled, relaxing slightly. 

“This is what I want.”

Mrs. Tidwell patted her hands.  “I’ll fetch Dr. Patric.”

 

 

Dr. Patric was an older man with kind eyes and a friendly disposition.  He didn’t ask why she made this choice-why they made this choice, merely explained the procedure to her in gentle terms.  He asked about her position at St. Bart’s and listened as she babble nervously about everything.  He explained that he would follow her progress throughout.

“How many chances, or times, will there be?”

He smiled, checking his chart.  “If everything is successful the first time, you could have at least two or three if you so choose.  I will warn you that there is always the chance that the first time will not click and it has nothing to do with you or your body.  It just happens.”

“It’s just…I’m not sure I could afford a second or third try.”

His smile remained.  “Doctor Hooper, you’re not to worry about any of that.  It has all been taken care of; as many times as you need, as many times as you return, it’s all been taken care of.”

Tears filled her eyes and she blinked rapidly, trying to keep them back.  He’d done this.  For her.  It’s, granted, the oddest gift she’d ever received, but she was just overwhelmed.   His smile turned sympathetic, saying nothing until she brought herself back together. 

“We will make sure you have this Dr. Hooper, no matter what.”

 

The call came in two days later that her bloodwork was fine and everything was a go. 

She returned a week later to that tall glass and metal building.  The procedure was quick and painless.  It wasn’t enjoyable but it wasn’t painful.  She left the building four hours later, feeling nervous again and a little apprehensive. 

It was done. 

She cried in her bathroom that night, curled in a ball against the door with the shower running so no one could hear her. 

Not that there was anyone.


	3. Chapter 3

A month later, she returned to that building, the woman at the front desk-Alexandra- knew her now and smiled kindly whenever she stepped out of the lift. 

“Good morning Dr. Hooper.”

“Good morning Alexandra.”

“Go right in,” she pressed a button on her desk and the door opened.  Mrs. Tidwell stood at the entrance and Molly found herself smiling at the woman. 

“Good morning dear,” the nurse said as Molly stepped through the door.  “Dr. Patric is running just a tad behind but no worries, you’ll still be out of here within the hour.”

 

Once inside the comfortable room, it was always the same one- Molly wondered if each patient had their own exam room- Mrs. Tidwell took some blood and had her take a urine test.

Ten minutes after her designated appointment time, Dr. Patric stepped into the office and nodded towards her. 

“Congratulations.  It took, first time too.”

Tears came to Molly’s eyes and she broke down sobbing in the office.  Mrs. Tidwell hurried in and wrapped an arm around her.

It was real now.  There was no going back.

 

Two weeks after her appointment, Molly was wrist deep into a corpse trying to work the heart from the chest when Mike stepped into the office holding a cup of coffee.

“Morning Molly, how’s Mr. Anderson coming?”

The smell tickled Molly’s nose and her stomach churned.   She barely had enough time to place the heart into the metal bowl, rip off her gloves and move her face-plate before she was bent over the metal bucket they kept on the floor for such occasions and vomiting right into it. 

“Oi!”  Mike put his coffee down and hurried towards her.  “Molly are you okay?”

She threw up everything that was on her stomach; toast, porridge, tea and gagged a couple more times for good measure before straightening up.  Mike produced a handful of paper towels that she took gratefully. 

“You feeling well Molly?  Never had you toss at an autopsy before.”

“Sorry, I don’t know what happened.  I must be coming down with something.”

“You want to take the rest of the day off?  I can call Richmon in to cover the rest of the shift, there was only the one autopsy today.”

She shook her head.  “I’ll be fine. I might have just come down with something. Just…could you move your coffee?  The smell is making me nauseous.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.  If you need to leave, just call me and I’ll get Richmon.”

She smiled at him and nodded.  “I should be fine now.  Thanks.”

Giving her a worried look, he hurried out of the lab, taking his coffee with him. 

That was how she discovered that formaldehyde and dead bodies she was fine with, coffee however made her race straight for the bathroom.

 

As she sat on her couch that night, eating crackers and lamenting the loss of wine, at least for the foreseeable future, a thought came to her;  her hours at the lab weren’t always consistent, there were times she had to work nights and weekends.  She loved it, she wasn’t about to give up her job. 

She was going to need help, full time help. 

Biting her lower lip nervously, she eyed her mobile.  There was one person she knew could help, but that would almost be like making a deal with the devil.  Even if the devil was now familial.  She picked up her phone and clicked on the number she had listed as **end of the world only!**   in her contacts.

The phone rang twice and was picked up by a female voice. 

“Hello?”

Molly took a deep breath. 

“I need an appointment with Mr. Holmes.”


	4. Chapter 4

She’d heard about this place, most from John, a little from Sh-him, but she’d never had reason to be standing where she was, picked up by the sleek black Jaguar that John had always insisted showed up out of nowhere.  Now, she believed him.  The woman on her mobile behind her nodded once. 

“He’s expecting you.  Just through those doors.”

She was nervous.  After all, she was about to step into the office of a person she’d heard called the “actual British government” more than once.  Someone with the power of an actual country taking time out to see a pathologist in a oversized green jumper and khakis was absurd.  She took a deep breath and told herself it wasn’t about just her anymore.  That knowledge spurred her on to stepping forward and knocking on the large oak doors. 

“Come.” 

Taking one more deep breath, she opened the door and stepped in. 

The entire office was spacious and practically screamed “seat of power”.  In the middle of the room, behind a large oak desk sat Mycroft Holmes.  His head was down and he was writing.  She closed the door behind her and took a couple of steps into the room. 

“Do sit down Doctor Hooper, this will be tedious if you persist on cowering by the door.”

She didn’t miss this.

Forcing her hands to her side, she strode towards his desk and took a seat in one of the tapestry covered chairs in front of his desk.  She sat silently until he finished what he was doing and finally designed to look up at her.  Which he did with a barely polite smile. 

“I must say, I’m disappointed Doctor Hooper.”  He began.  “I’d rather thought, or my brother led me to believe, that you would be the one person who wasn’t in on this façade for monetary reasons.  Ah well, it just goes to show that my brother doesn’t know everything.”  He opened a large leather book and picked up a pen.  “How much are you asking?”

Molly frowned, this wasn’t how she expected this meeting to go.  Then again, anything involving the last name of Holmes never went the way she believed it would. 

“I don’t want your money.”  She said.  “Or the government’s money, I do well enough on my own and I’ll not take a pound for what…for my part.  I’ve come…”

She took another deep breath noticing that for the first time, she had the full attention of the British Government.  “I’ve come to ask for a favour.”

An eyebrow rose. But the pen was placed down.  “A favour?”

She nodded.

“I need- or rather I was hoping…”

The eyebrow stayed raised and the look was clearly said “get on with it”

“I’m going to need a nanny.  Preferably full time live in.”

It was rare when she was able to get one over on a Holmes brother.  Mycroft sat there, the startled look alighting his face for a mere moment.  He glanced down towards her stomach and then, a hint of a smirk shadowed his face. 

“I see.  And when will you need this…nanny?”

“In about seven months.”

“You live in a one bedroom flat at the moment, correct?  You’ll need a new flat, that can be taken care of.  I’ll text you the information once arrangements are complete.”

Molly blinked.  She hadn’t expected it to be this easy.  She started to her feet. 

“Um, thank you.”

“It’s the least we can do for you.  And, congratulation Doctor Hooper.”

She gave him a small smile but his attention was already back to his papers.  She took her leave quickly, not wanting him to change his mind or even begin asking questions she was sure he already had the answers to. 

Anthea was standing outside when she emerged from the room, her phone in her hands. 

“Ready?”

“Yes please.”


	5. Chapter 5

She continued her life, still under the radar, still quiet with only a few changes to her schedule.  She kept her monthly appointment with Dr. Patric and followed almost obsessively with every suggestion and observation he made. 

By month four she noticed her pants were getting a bit tight.  The first trimester was passed and Dr. Patric didn’t foresee any issues with the pregnancy.  She put on a looser pair of trousers and went to the office.  It was time to tell Mike. 

 

 

Her boss stood in front of her, his gaze going from her stomach and face.  She could see him desperately trying to add the months together and continually coming up with an impossibility. 

“Pregnant?”

She nodded.  He glanced again towards her stomach. 

“How long?”

“About four months.  I don’t want to quit or anything, I’m letting you know because in about six months you’re going to need someone to cover for me for a month or two.”

“Molly, you’re allowed twenty six weeks.”

She gave him a look.  “I know but honestly, how are we going to find someone to cover for the entire six months?  I can take two and then be on call for the other four if you like, I don’t want to be a bother.”

Mike laughed loudly.  “Molly, your life is about to be upended and you don’t want to be a bother.  My girl, congratulations.  So…is it anyone we know?”

There is was.  The not so subtle question, trying to solve how she could be four months pregnant nine months after…well.  She smiled and shook her head. 

“No.  It’s just…”  She already had a story prepared.  She didn’t want the looks and the speculation behind her back if she told about going to Dr. Patric.  It was easier to invent someone.  

“There’s this guy I’ve been seeing.  Got a little tipsy one night.  And I realized this might be my only chance.”

“Say no more Molls, of course, whatever we can do to help.  I’ll put in the paperwork and see if we can get a replacement for your leave, no worries.  I’ll take care of it.”

“Thanks Mike.  I appreciate it.”  She chucked a thumb behind her.  “I’ll just get back to work, yeah?”

She turned from the office.  That went better than she expected.  Less questions and with her explanation, she knew Mike well enough to know that the gossip tree at the hospital her story would be circulating within the week so there wouldn’t be any uncomfortable questions.   She wondered how far the gossip tree spread now days.

 

 

Molly was enjoying some well-deserved time off.  There’d been a murder spree ten days past and she’d been working doubles to get autopsies finished and reports sent out to Lestrade.  She knew that the gossip tree extended at least out to him because the couple of times Lestrade had come to see her for answers, Molly had caught his eyes wander down to her stomach and then move away to anywhere that wasn’t her person.  He’d ask how she was feeling, every time and once offered to fetch her a chair or a stool.  It didn’t matter.  The less people outside St. Barts new or cared to know, the easier it was to pretend everything was fine.  She’d taken to wearing a ring on her left finger.  A small thing really, she’d found it in  a second hand shop.  With her stomach protruding further out now, a fact her over-sized jumpers were starting to have problems hiding, a ring on her finger would stave off any inquiries regarding her single status.  It also kept well-meaning do-gooders off her arse, asking if they could help while making side remarks about being a single mum. 

Her story was intact; simple yet easy to remember even to repeated questioning.  She met a guy.  His name was Tom, he worked in acquisitions which meant he wasn’t always in town, meeting and conferences and whatnot.   But he’d proposed, she said yes.  No they didn’t have a date planned yet; with his job and hers, plus the baby on the way, they wanted to save up enough money first.

A knock came on her door and she looked over from the couch.  Toby perked up an ear but remained curled up by her his on the couch.  The knock came again and Molly’s heart leapt in her chest. 

Climbing to her feet and ignoring Toby’s meow of disapproval, she walked to the door.  She peered through the peephole her hand reaching out for the metal bat leaning against the wall.  A woman stood outside, tall and dark, her hair short and as brown as her eyes. 

“Hello?”  she called out. 

“Molls, let me in,” the cultured, unfamiliar voice called out.  “It’s bloody wet out here, yeah?”

Frowning, Molly opened the door and the woman gave her a wide smile and reached forward. 

“Molls, it’s been ages.  Why didn’t you call me darling?”  the woman practically shouted in excitement, reaching over to give Molly a hug and move past her into the flat.  Molly shut the door behind her, bat still in hand.  Once the door closed, the woman’s happy expression faded. 

“The plan is I’m an old friend from Uni coming to stay.”  She said, extending an envelope.  Molly stared at the envelope for a moment before letting go of the bat and taking the paper from her.  She slipped out the letter as the woman unwound the scarf from her neck. 

 

_Dr. Hooper._

_Everything is finally in order.  The woman who presented you with this letter is Dana Morris.  She is to be your live in full time nanny, as you requested.  You can work out the particulars with her on a cover story, I’m sure she already has one planned._

_To the matter of your flat, it is much too small for three people so a larger flat had been procured.  Three bedroom, two bath upper East Side, close to St. Bartholomew’s, a good school system, and what I’m told is a niceish park.  There will be movers on the 5 th for transfer everything.  The address is on the card attached to this letter and Dana has the keys. _

_As this was a favour you requested, I’m asking for the payment of said favour to be updates on the child, perhaps a photo or two as he or she grows.   My personal mobile number is on the bottom of this letter.  In regards to the child, do not hesitate to contact me if anything is needed.  His or her needs will be entirely taken care of, all you need do is ask._

_Also, should you be so inclined, our parents’ names are Violet and Algernon._

_Yours,_

_M_

 

The woman extended her hand.  “Dana Morris, charmed.”

Molly took it.  “Molly Hooper.”

Dana grinned widely.  “Oh, I know.  So, as the letter mentioned, I’m to be the little one’s new nanny,”  She nodded towards Molly’s stomach.  “I have a degree in education, I’m fluent in multiple languages- Mr. Holmes insisted- and I’m well trained in securities- also a priority.  I understand I’m months early but I figured we needed to get to know each other before the babe arrives, make sure we get along.  This isn’t going to work if we can’t get along and have completely different styles of child rearing.  Also, I’ll need to help you pack your stuff.  Do you know what you’re having yet?”

At that moment, Toby, who’d hopped off the couch and wandered into the hallway to investigate, meowed loudly and stopped right by Dana’s booted feet.  She bent down and stroked the cat. 

“Oh, aren’t you a dear.”

The cat rubbed his head against her leg and purred.  Molly smiled. 

“I’m sure we’ll get along grand.”


	6. Chapter 6

There were days where Molly felt that life was just something happening to her. She didn’t actively participate, she more…reacted nowadays.   The last proactive decision she’d made was to step into that large glass and metal building.

Of course she and Dana got on, Molly knew they would the moment Toby rubbed against the woman’s leg demanding she acknowledge him.  Toby disliked everyone; everyone except her, Dana and Sherlock even if  the latter was more of a battle of wills. 

Her entire flat, all of the furniture, every scratch of clothing, every knick knack, bowl, book and Toby was packed up and transported to the new flat on one cloudy afternoon.  Molly stood in the empty flat one last time, her thoughts full of memories of bolt holes, late night arguments, crap telly, laughter and comfortable contentment. 

_He won’t know where I am._  She frowned at the thought.  Her single life was over, no more living alone- now she was living for two- hopefully she didn’t cock it up. With one last look, she stepped out and closed the door on her old life.

* * *

 

 

“Bloody hell.”

The new flat was gorgeous.  A two story townhouse with a huge kitchen and a little garden in back.  It was everything Molly would’ve wished for, if she’d had the disposable income to wish.  Dana stood beside her, Molly’s key in her hand. 

“It’s nice.”

“Nice?  I’d joke that somehow your boss has a direct link to my dreams but I’m a bit scared it might be true. And some of my dreams might be a bit uncomfortable for him.”

Dana let out a soft chuckle before stepping forward. 

“Speaking of, come with me.”

She followed Dana up the stairs.  Dana opened the first door and Molly stared. It was her room, or rather her things.  The room was large and bright with gorgeous picture windows she could throw open and get air.

“We can move things about to suit but…”

She stepped further in making a slow circle, her mouth spread in a  smile.

“I love this.”

“Good.  Then one more.”

They stepped out to the door next to her bedroom door and Dana pushed it open. 

Molly gasped.

Inside was a dresser made of light wood, a matching wardrobe and in the middle of the room was the most beautiful crib Molly had ever seen.  She was entrance.  Elated.

Intimidated.

There was no way she could’ve ever afforded a crib such as this.  It looked like an antique.

She approached the crib, her fingers running over the worn wood.  On the crib mattress, there lay a folded note.  She picked it up and opened it, her other hand still stroking the wood.

 

_This has been used by two generations.  It’s only fitting the next generation be raised in it._

_M_

 

Her hand went to her mouth, trying to reign in her turbulent emotions.  For a person known not so fondly as the Ice Man, the eldest brother had exhibited more sentiment in the past three months than possibly the entirely of when she’s known him.

“I take it you approve?”  Dana asked, then continued on.  “Of course, we can change the colors and design to fit the child or gender neutral, if you prefer.”

Molly wiped at her eyes, slipping the note into her pocket. 

“I want neutral.”  Her voice wavered as she turned to Dana.  “Cremes and yellows and browns.  It can always be changed when the little one ages but for now,”  She looked back at the crib.  “Yes, warm tones.”

There was a feeling inside her.  Not the warm fuzzy feeling of being comfortable or overwhelmed.  A real visceral feeling.  Of something moving against her.  Hard. 

She gasped, the hand not still on the crib going to her stomach.  Dana took a step towards her.

“What is it?  What’s wrong?”

Molly looked up at her, tears still in her eyes, breathless. 

“I felt a kick.”

Dana’s own eyes widened and she grinned.  “Really?”

Molly nodded, her hand moving across her abdomen.  She’d felt it, nothing more than a light flutter but intangibly proof that there was a living being inside her.  It was all too real.  Everything.  Up until that moment, everything has been dreamlike; she understood what was happening, what was going to happen but there was no proof that it really was.  Now, with one small movement, a movement she felt, a movement that told her that yes, it was all very real and going to happen very soon.  She was pregnant. With his child.  Right now, she was the bravest woman in London.

 

Wiping her eyes again, she gave a bright smile.  “Now, where’s Toby?”

* * *

 

 

Weeks later, Mycroft was on his way to a cabinet meeting when his phone beeped.  Pulling it from his suit pocket he swiped it as he walked.  It was a text message. 

Frowning at the number, he clicked the message.  Attached was an image. 

Mycroft halted in his steps as the expanded the image.  It looked like a black and white impressionist painting. Below the image was the text.

 

**I’m partial to William David Algernon.  Thoughts?**

 

Anyone passing at that moment would’ve sworn that there was a trick of the light because Mycroft Holmes never smiled of his own accord.


	7. Chapter 7

Mike Stamford was running a bit late.  His train had been behind, he’d spilled coffee on his shirt while trying to juggle his briefcase and breakfast while managing the queue. And the lift was being serviced so he wasn’t particularly happy by the time he dumped his case in his office.

The thought of just booting up his computer and skipping his daily check in on Molly passed through his mind but after a few moments of mental back and forth, he headed down the hall. 

He’d watched, this past year, as Molly thrived.  From her scared look when she told him to her allowing him to feel the baby kick, her smile when she told him she was having a boy to her tired countenance as she waddle through the lab, an occasional hand on her back when she was bent over for too long. Not that he would tell her she waddled, he didn’t have a death wish.

  She had never complained, her work was up to par if not surpassing it most times.  She was in early and out late, not complaining about double shifts or extra work the NSY brought.  Some days, especially towards the end here, he made her take breaks as he could see her standing by sheer force of will alone.  He’d taken to checking up on her a couple of times a day, just to make sure everything was fine.  Especially after he’d come into the lab one evening to find her sound asleep with her head on the lab table.  She couldn’t be comfortable in that position so he figured she must’ve been so exhausted that she’d simply…fallen asleep. 

He pushed open the door and stepped into the lab. 

“Good morning Molly,”  his voice died as he looked around the empty lab.  The door swung shut behind him.  The light were on and the equipment was out but the main lab area was empty.  He took a tentative step further into the room. 

“Molly?”

“In here!”  She sounded in pain and alarmed, he hurried towards the back towards her office.  He found her doubled over, clutching at her stomach, her khakis dark with wet.

“My water broke.”  She gasped out, confirming his worst fear.  “It’s too soon, there’s still ten days.”

Mike hurried past her to her desk to grab her chair.  He rolled it back and helped her sit in it.  She was groaning in pain, her face contorted in a grimace.  He picked up the phone on her desk and dialed the switchboard.

“This is Mike Stamford in pathology.  I need ambulance here  for a transport to…”  He looked at Molly helplessly.

“The Royal London.”  She supplied. 

“The Royal London STAT.”  he told the person who answered.  Dropping the phone back into the cradle he hurried back to Molly. 

“Tell me what to do.”  He said, a little panicked.  She opened her mouth to speak but groaned again. One hand flailed out and he grabbed it, wincing a little when she squeezed too hard. 

“It’s too early,”  she panted.  “He can’t be ready, it’s too early.  I’m so sorry Mike.”

He rubbed at her shoulder blades, trying to comfort her. 

“Molly don’t.  You could hardly know this was going to happen now, could you?  Is there anyone I can call?  Is Tom in town?”

For a moment she looked confused then she shook her head. 

“No.  No, call Dana.  On my mobile, she’s helping.”

He found her mobile in her lab coat pocket.  Sliding down the list he found Dana’s number and dialed.  The woman answered on the second ring.

“Hello?”

“This is Mike Samford, Molly’s boss.  She’s in labor, said to call you.”

He heard the door to the lab open and yelled out their location.  

“Tell her I’m on my way.”

He handed the phone to Molly as two paramedics hurried in with a wheelchair.

“I’m early,”  Molly was crying.  “I’m ten days early.  I can’t be ready.”

One of the paramedics helped her up and into the chair.  “Oh dear, you’re ready.”

“I need Dr. Patric, call Dr. Patric.”

The paramedics pushed Molly out of the lab, leaving Mike alone to wonder if he really shouldn’t have stayed home today.


	8. Chapter 8

Molly was frantic.

Everything had been exactly on schedule.  His growth, his percentages, when she’d feel him kick for the first time. Everything.

She wasn’t scheduled to be here for ten more days and yet here she was, being pushed in on a stretcher via the emergency entrance ten days early.  The entire ride here she tried to explain to the paramedic that there might be something wrong.  Bless him, the poor kid tried to make her comfortable and did as much as he could while in transport.

Her due date was ten days from today so why was she in labor today?  This was not on schedule.  If it wasn’t on schedule, then there was something wrong.

She kept trying to tell the nurses but they weren’t listening.  She was scared.  She was alone, scared and angry.  This was all her fault, why the hell did she think she could handle this?

No one would listen to her for Christ sake, she was a doctor.  They only cooed and patted her arm and told her to relax.  She wanted her doctor, where the bloody hell was Dr. Patric?  She wanted someone here with her, she wanted a familiar face to tell her what was happening, to tell her she was being ridiculous and make her believe it, she wanted someone to mock the condescending nurses, she wanted some to just hold her hand.  She wanted-

“I bloody well am going in there!  I’m am her birth partner until her bloody wanker of a fiancé decides to show his face and I don’t see that happening anytime soon!”

The door flew open and Dana stormed in looking every bit like a vengeful goddess.  In behind her, trying to hide the delighted amusement on his face, was Doctor Patric.

She couldn’t help it, she began sobbing.

Dana hurried over to the bed, grabbing her hand the moment she was close enough. 

“Molls, darling it’s fine, we’re here.”

Doctor Patric pulled out her chart and glanced over it.  Molly clutched onto Dana’s hand, thankful she was here, her attention focused on the doctor at the foot of her bed. 

“He’s early.  There’s something wrong.  He shouldn’t be early.”

“Perhaps he’s decided he’s bored?”  Doctor Patric asked as he slipped on gloves. 

The image of his father throwing a tantrum because he was bored filled her mind and she began laughing.  Dana patted her hand as the doctor did a quick examination.  Standing up, he slipped off the gloves and smiled at her. 

“There’s nothing wrong Molly, your baby has indeed merely decided he was ready to enter this world.  You’re almost ready to go.  I’ll go inform the nurses, shall I?”

Molly looked over at Dana, her eyes wide in sudden fear.  “I’m not ready.”  Her voice quivered.  “What if I’m a rubbish mum?  What if he’s too much for me to handle?  What if something happens and I can’t figure out how to do this?  What if-

“Molly,”  Dana’s grip tightened and she leaned forward.  “Breathe.  It’s too late to back out of this now.  You’ve been given a gift,  one you accepted and you are going to love him once he’s here.”  She gripped her chin and forced her look at her.  Dark eyes met dark eyes.  “Just some pain and  then you’ll forget all of this.  Once you look into that face you’re going to forget everything.”

Molly watched her face wide-eyed.  Over the months Dana had quickly become one of her close friends.  It didn’t matter that she was employed by Mycroft, it just made it easier for her to discuss her fears.  She couldn’t with Meena, her best friend couldn’t figure out why she was ruining her career with a kid, not knowing it was her choice.  Dana knew.  She understood. 

“I’m scared.”  She whispered, wincing at the beginning of a contraction.  Dana’s hand gripped her tightly as she squeezed back. 

“I know.  But you’re Molly Hooper.  If anyone can do this, you can.”

Then the contraction hit, the pain rising quickly and Molly couldn’t respond. 

Doctor Patric walked in with several nurses.  “It sounds like we’re ready to go then.  Miss Morris will you be staying?”

Dana nodded. 

“You’ll need to get suited up then, if you please?”

“I’ll be right back.”  With one final squeeze Dana released her hand and walked to the back of the room to put on a gown. Molly watched through the haze of pain as the nurses and doctor Patric quickly and efficiently gathered everything the needed and prepared the room.  The head of her bed was lifted slightly and her legs propped up.  Dana came back gowned and with a glance towards Doctor Patric, one he nodded too, took her place back beside Molly and took her hand. 

“You ready for this?”

“No.”

Dana grinned widely.  “Too late now.”

* * *

 

“All right Molly, let’s get ready.  The next contraction and you push.”

The pain began to wave in towards her and she gritted her teeth.  One hand gripping Dana’s and the other clutching onto the rail on the bed, she bore down.

Pain.  Waves and waves of pain, it wouldn’t stop.  She’d never been shot, never been stabbed, never had a major injury save a broken arm when she was five.  The pain of feeling bone snap was nothing compared to the feeling of one insides being ripped from their moorings.  She couldn’t breathe at times the pain was so strong.  She pushed, grunted and screamed and pushed when the doctor told her too.  Her blood was rushing in her ears, she could hear her own heart pounding a fast staccato against her ribs.  She felt hot and cold.  She pushed again and could feel skin tearing slowly, painfully and she screamed again.  She was getting lightheaded and for a moment she could hear voices that she knew weren’t there, couldn’t be there. 

_Molly, Molly, Molly, you’ve gotten yourself into a right mess this time, haven’t you?  Poor little mousey Molly did something so silly._ She could hear Jim’s voice so clear, like he was right next to her.  But he wasn’t, she’d seen his body in her autopsy, the back of his head blown off.  _This won’t change anything, you know, he’ll never see you._

She screamed, partially to get him out of her head, partially because of the blinding pain.  There was a feeling of something sliding and suddenly the pain was gone.  Not completely but the blinding waves had stopped.  She fell backwards onto the pillow, gasping for breath, her hair matted to her forehead.  She could feel the inside of her body moving, a tug deep in her womb and one more cramp and another feeling of something sliding out.  She didn’t care.  She wanted to sleep, she wanted to just fall away and sleep. 

A sound broke through the room, the sound of a baby crying and Molly’s eyes opened, her heart leaping against her chest.  Her breathing grew ragged again and she felt Dana beside her, her hand stroking Molly’s hair. 

“All done, you did so well.”

Her entire focus was on the group of nurses behind Doctor Patric.  She barely felt the needle or the slight tugging feeling as her eyes never left that group.  One of the nurses left the group holding a bundle and began to walk towards her.  Her breath caught in her throat. 

“Congratulations.  It’s a boy.”   The nurse held out the bundle and with shaking hands Molly took it from her, resting the bundle right below her chest.  She licked her dry lips and moved the blanket away.  

Her breath left her in a whoosh.  Her child lay there, eyes blinking against the light; pale skin, cherubic face, tiny nose slightly upturned, cupid’s lips and a smattering of black hair she could tell was going to grow out to a mess of soft curls.  His eyes finally opened wide, trying to focus on something and her breath hitched. Subconsciously she understood that all babies were born with blue eyes or so they said but God help her, he had his father’s eyes.

She was crying again; she could feel the tears wetting her cheeks as she ran a light finger down her son’s cheek.  His nose wrinkled, his mouth automatically opening.  She looked up, wiping away tears with her free hand, and smiled brilliantly. 

“Thank you.”

Doctor Patric smiled down at her.  “My dear, you did it all, I merely assisted.  And now, let’s all give the new mum some time alone.”  He reached down, patting her now blanket covered ankle.  “I’ll be back in to check you in a few.”

Dana gave her hand one last squeeze and followed the doctor and the nurses out of the room.  The door closed behind her and suddenly she was alone with her son. 

Her son.

She watched him; all facial expressions and soft squeaking noises as he adjusted to this new environment and began rooting for food. Until moments before, she thought she could never feel such love for anything.  She loved, but this love, this all-consuming feeling in the pit of her chest.  This urge that forced her to acknowledge that she would do anything, sacrifice anything, do whatever it took to keep this tiny human safe terrified and emboldened her. In her life she’d done some bad things.  Illegal things, some definitely Not Good things.  And for this baby in her arms, she would do so much more. She would die, she would kill.

Eyes squeezed shut, and she breathed out a soft chuckle at the pout on her son’s face as his face wrinkled to let out a cry.  Never had she been so excited to look her downfall in the face.


	9. Chapter 9

Her room was a private suite which suited her fine.  She’d asked that William stay with her that night, in the small plexiglass crib they kept the babies in.  She hadn’t wanted to let him out of her sight; right now her trust in people around her son only extended to Dana.

It was late; her room was darkened and she was sleeping, the crib right next to her bed where her son was sleeping peacefully also.  The door to the suite opened and closed softly, the quiet sound of footsteps approaching the bed.  Molly opened her eyes at the sound and turned her head.  She wasn’t sure who she was expecting to be in the room but the eldest Holmes brother standing over the crib watching her son sleep definitely wasn’t one of them. 

“You can hold him.”  She yawned.   His gaze snapped to her for just a moment before returning back to the infant.  She honestly expected him to refuse, to shake his head at even the idea of holding a child.  So she was more than a little surprised when he unbuttoned his suit coat and shrugged it off, folding it and laying it across a chair in the room.  He flipped his tie over his shoulder and scooped William up, holding him like an expert.  The look on the British Government’s face was one she’d never seen. 

“I remember when Mummy brought him home.”  His voice was quiet but Molly could hear him perfectly.  “I was seven years old and was in the sitting room with my Nana when Father brought them from hospital.  Mummy sat down in her favorite chair, this…bundle in her arms and told me it was my brother.  That I was now to help take care and protect him.  I remember looking at the babe in her arms in wonder.  He reminds me so much of that day.”  Mycroft looked up, an eyebrow raised. 

“Mummy would be in raptures.  In them you would find the most doting of grandparents.”

Molly smiled.  “Perhaps one day, after this is all over.  I wouldn’t be opposed to the meeting.”

He nodded, his attention returning to the infant.  “Have you kept the name?”

“Meet William David Algernon Hooper.”

Again the eyes lifted to meet hers.  “Very pragmatic.”

She shrugged.  “I’m not married to my son’s father.  Who knows what could happen in the future.  Will’s name can always be changed should the need arise.”  She watched Mycroft with William.  Had she not known him, had she not heard the rumors or met the man, she’d be hard pressed to believe that this was the infamous Ice Man.  There was so much…as Sherlock would say, sentiment in Mycroft at this moment, she couldn’t believe the man didn’t have a heart.

“You are more than welcome to see him anytime you wish, Mycroft.”  She offered, not sure if it would ever be taken up on.  But she’d feel horrible if she didn’t offer.  “I can let Dana know that you have an open invitation, no need to call or set up anything.”

He watched her.  She didn’t flinch away from his gaze.  A small lift of the corner of his mouth was all the indication she got of his approval of her offer. 

“It’s easy to understand why he chose you.”

She frowned at his words, but his attention was back at the child.  One moment more and then he gently placed the still sleeping infant back in the crib. 

“The agreement that is in place for William, understand that it extends to you.”  Flipping his tie back down, he walked back to the chair to retrieve his jacket.  “Anything you need, anything at all, you only need contact me.”  He stepped back towards her bed; suit coat back on, looking very much like the man she was used to seeing.  The man who controlled England at his whim.  “Know this, I will do everything in my power to see you and William safe.  And you should understand by now Doctor Hooper, that I have quite enough power.”

“Molly. In private, you can call me Molly, if you wish.  And thank you.”

He nodded once.  “Molly.  I’ll be in touch.”

With that, the man swept from the room, the door quietly shutting behind him.  Molly looked over at her still sleeping son.

“You’re Uncle isn’t quite as cold as he lets others think.”  She whispered.


	10. Chapter 10

Before they left for home, the doctors assured her that William was perfectly fine.  That his early appearance had nothing to do with any physical ailments and everything to do with the fact that he was just impatient.  Which, of course, stuck Molly as funny given his father. 

She settled into the life of motherhood much easier than she expected.  She had no doubt that much of her ease could be attributed to Dana.

The woman was everything Molly needed in her life;  a friend, a companion, someone to distract her and now a person who instinctually knew when she was beginning to run herself exhausted.  She let Molly do the majority of the mothering while taking up the slack of the everyday chores that still needed to be done.  They had a system and Molly was grateful.  She wasn’t sure how nannies were supposed to work and Dana had laughingly told her that each situation was different.  That these months would go by much too fast and she’d be heading back into work soon and then she’d be glad Dana was there to take care of Will.

Which was the truth; soon four months had passed and Molly reluctantly phoned Mike Stamford to tell him know she would be willing to be on call if he needed her. She adored her son, loved seeing him grow each day and with it the new experiences that came with a growing child but she missed her job, missed the routine, the silence, the rigid conformity that came with being in a lab and running exams.

Two days later Mike called to beg her assistance with an autopsy.  It was for the NSY and Lestrade had asked specifically for her if she was available. 

There was a bouquet of flowers and a “Welcome Back” banner in her office when she arrived. 

“Sorry about this Molly,”  Mike said as he flipped through her phone looking at pictures of Will.  “Lestrade practically begged me to call when-cor, look at those curls!- he found out you were now on call.  He said he could only trust you to the level of detail he needs.”  He returned her phone.  “How is he?”

“Curious.  Perfect.  Tell Greg I’ll get him the information he needs.”

“Yeah, chances are he’ll be in later.  Half to get the results but I’m sure mostly to see you.”

She rolled her eyes as she donned her lab coat. 

“You make it sound so scandalous Mike, I am an engaged woman.”

 

* * *

 

True to his prediction, DI Lestrade came into the lave five hours later, arguing with someone on the phone as he waved to her.  She waved back, fighting the small skip in her heart and the unconscious slide of her eyes to the current empty space behind him.  Like she was almost expecting someone to follow, coat flapped behind him, eyes glued to his cell phone. 

“Right, welcome back.”  he finally said after shutting off his phone.  “First things first, have you pictures?”

Molly laughed and handed over her phone.  Lestrade flipped through the pictures. 

“Look at that hair!  And that face,”  he glanced up at her.  “How old is he now?”

“A little over four months.”

Lestrade shook his head and flipped through the final pictures before handing the phone back to her.

“He looks…”

Molly raised an eyebrow, waiting.  Lestrade shook his head as if dismissing a thought and smiled.  “A lot like you.  His dad have dark hair?”

She nodded pocketing the phone and handing a folder to him.

“He does.  Here’s my report on your DB.  Toxicology screening and findings suggest murder.”

Lestrade cursed softly as he took the file.  “I thought so but I had to be sure.  Thanks Molly.”

Patting her arm he walked off, his phone already back at his ear.  The next day, Mike called again asking for her to come in for a few hours to run some tests on stomach contents.

And just like that, her on-call status became a return to work.


	11. Chapter 11

As William grew, Molly continued updating Mycroft with his development.  William himself was a curious child: he watched everything; cars, birds, people.  He had to see everything, touch everything.   He smiled and laughed and babbled only in the private presence of Molly and Dana.  In public he was a somber child, he’d watch people who’d approach, his eyes studying them, his mouth closed, sometimes his face would wrinkle up and he’d turn away, burying his face in the chest of whomever held him if someone paid too much attention to him at all.  He learned to crawl at six months because his mother wouldn’t let him pet the cat.  He quickly discovered that crawling made him mobile and quicker than rolling around on the floor did and within a week both Molly and Dana were having to keep an eye on where they walked and where he was at any time.

 

“There you are!”  Molly scooped up the squealing baby from the floor in mid crawl and swung him onto her hip.  His hands went directly to her shirt and her pony tail, tugging on the strands. 

“Time for tea, you squirmy little creature.  Well tea for me, milk for you.” 

William made a happy noise followed by a raspberry, his hand letting go of her hair and waving wildly in front of him as he spotted Dana coming down the steps.  She gave him a wide smile as she approached. 

“Time for tea?  Hello my little terror, are you driving Mummy nuts yet?”

William’s answer was another raspberry. 

“There’s been a change,”  Dana said as they headed towards the kitchen.  Molly put William in his high chair and he immediately began to bang on the tray as she went to make a bottle.  “The boss is bringing in someone new.”

Molly frowned as she put the kettle on and picked up an empty bottle.  “You’re still staying, right?  They aren’t replacing you?”

“Over my dead body they will.”  She pulled a box of teething cookies from the cabinet and took out one.  “No, this is an addition.  They’ve decided your fiancé needs to be a flesh and blood person.”

The doorbell rang and Molly gave Dana a hard look.  “This was one of those immediately things, wasn’t it?”

“Sorry, I just got the message.”  Screwing the lid onto the bottle she handed it to William whose eyes lit up at the sight.  He snatched it from her hands and immediately shoved it into his mouth.  Dana placed a teething cookie on his tray.  He eyed the cookie while both hands were still on the bottle.  With one last look Molly headed towards the door.  “Maybe I’d better get the door.”

“Too late!”  Molly yelled back as she headed towards the foyer. Peeking through the security hole in the door, all she saw was a tall man in an over coat.  She unlocked the door and pulled it open.

Her heart stopped.  Standing before her was a man; tall, thin with a mess of dark hair and a dark overcoat.  He turned around and smiled widely when he spotted her. 

“Darling!”

She blinked, her heart slowing down from the sudden rapid thumping against her rib cage.  For one brief moment she thought…

The man was walking into her flat, pushing his way past her, talking all the while.  “Silly me, I left my key here the last time I left, I tried calling Barts but of course, they said you were off today so I came home hoping you were still in…”

She shut the door, eyes still wide and leaned against the door.  As soon as the door shut the man stopped  the nonsensical talking. 

“Sorry about that, wasn’t sure if there were neighbors listening.”

Dana stepped into the foyer, eyeing the person that had just walked in. 

“I’m impressed.”

The man looked at Dana and grinned before turning his attention back to Molly.  He held out a hand. 

“Hello.  I’m your fiancé, Tom.”

Molly blinked.  She opened her mouth and shut it again, not quite sure what to say.

“Is that your real name?”  she finally blurted out.  His smile remained.    
“For this, yes.”

“I’m sorry.  I’m just….sorry.  I’m having a bit of a time with this. I’m sure you’re a lovely person but why are you here again?”

“Sure, I can explain everything, just…do you mind if we have a sit down?”

Oh!”  she shook her head.  “Sorry.  Yeah, just…”  she waved towards the hooks.  “Put your coat up and we can go into the kitchen.  We were just about to have tea.”

“Tea sounds lovely.”  Tom hung up his overcoat and followed the two women into the kitchen.  Dana went to the kettle and pulled down another mug from the cabinet.  Tom followed in, stopping when he spotted the baby in the high chair eyeing him suspiciously.  “Hello.”

Molly waved towards the table.  “Please, have a seat.  Meet your son.”

Tom blinked and then looked at the child again.  “Oh.  Lovely.  I’m a Dad.  Do I know I’m a Dad?”

“You believe you’re a Dad, yeah.”

“Good.  Right then.”  He took a seat and smiled his thanks as Dana handed him a mug and some sandwiches.  “Thank you.”

Molly took a seat next to William’s high chair and broke off a small piece of her sandwich.  William pulled the bottle from his mouth and squealed when his mother fed him the small piece of sandwich. 

“So.  How about you tell me what this is all about?”

“I was told that until further notice I am your fiancé.  That you need to be seen out more with this mysterious fiancé of yours and that’s where I come in.  It appears that someone might be taking more than a casual interest in you and we need to make your current cover story as plausible as possible.  Now of course I won’t live here, your story is that Tom,”  He waved a hand towards her. “Is in some sort of business that takes him on a lot of trips out of town.  That’s good, we can use that.  I’m in Import/Export, many trips out of town, sometimes out of the country.  Which is why your college friend Dana is living here to help with the baby.  But we will need to meet up for dinners and nights out more often now, at least once a week or every two weeks.  But starting on the regular.  Movies, dinners, shows, walks, whatever you want.”

“You mean, you’re here for the sole purpose… to take me out on dates?”

Dana laughed.  “Right, how do I get that assignment?”

Molly’s eyes narrowed.  “I’m not sleeping with you.”

Tom laughed.  “I’m afraid I don’t know you quite well enough for that yet.  And I’m quite enough afraid of the boss to not disparage someone he has expressly assigned me to.”

Dana covered her grin. 


	12. Chapter 12

In her friendship with London’s only Consulting Detective, Molly had been subject to a multitude of things:  personal visits from the actual British Government, dating a homicidal psychopath bent on world destruction, having a good deal of her personal secrets, self-doubts and inadequacies loudly displayed for the world to hear it, faking someone’s death, lying on a government document, endangering her career multiple times, and having security details.  This might be the first time however, she had a member of MI-5 as her pretend boyfriend. 

Yet here she was, sitting in a nice restaurant with said agent, having pleasant conversations over pasta and wine.  Tom, as she knew him, was sweet.  He was all awkwardness and smiles, easy manner and lively conversation.  It was easy to ignore or forget that this was all just an act for him.  But he made her feel interesting, wanted, important.  The hand holding came naturally, she’d almost forgotten what physical contact with another human being, much less one who wasn’t under the age of one and only wanted hugs and dinner, felt like.  She loved her son, adored him, would do anything for him but having adult conversation with a man who held her hand was quite lovely in its own right.  

They discussed it that day, the intimate steps they’d need to take -hand holding, kisses and whatnot- in her kitchen with Dana and William giving the new usurper watchful side eye as he’d chewed on his teething biscuit.  He understood there was a new element to his already perfect little world and Molly could tell merely by the look on her son’s face that he hadn’t approved in the slightest.   He did not like Tom.  In the least.   He ignored the man every time he came, refused to even look at him at times and cried every time he realized his mother was leaving with the man; huge gasping sobs, with fat tears streaming from his eyes, stretched out from wherever he was, arms extended as if begging his mother to hold him, that he was all she needed.  She knew it was all a ploy, Dana had told her that the moment the door closed William shut up, the waterworks over and he would pout for at least one half an hour before relenting and finding something to interest him until she returned.  It didn’t mean it still didn’t break her heart each time he did it.   Even under the age of one, William had figured out how to manipulate her so easily.

Like Father, like Son.

“You’re drifting on me luv, long day?”

Blinking, she looked over at Tom and smiled.  “Sorry, yes.  I think the extra hours at the lab are getting to me.”

“We don’t have to go to the movies tonight, if you like.”  He leaned forward, her hand in his, his thumb stroking the top of her hand lightly.  “We could always go home and-“

“Molly?”

Blinking again, Molly looked up.  A blonde that looked familiar to her was standing beside their table, her eyes darting between her and Tom as if trying to figure out the scene.  She looked back at Tom who was smiling up at the woman.  She knew this person, she knew she did.  Visions of a uniform and a nurses station floated in her memory. 

“Katie,”  The name popped in her mind suddenly.  She was one of the nurses in two west that she’d overheard talking about Tom being imaginary and that she hadn’t really been pregnant.  “Hi.  Oh,”  She looked back to Tom who was waiting for her to introduce them, one side of his mouth curved upward. “Katie, this is Tom.  My fiancé.  Tom, this is Katie, she’s a nurse at Bart’s.”

“Oh,”  Wiping his mouth with a napkin, he released Molly’s hand and stood. She watched Katie’s eyes follow Tom as he rose to his full height.  He held out his hand.  “Hi, please to meet you.”

The blond smiled, shaking his hand.  “Likewise.  Molly has told us about you but she never mentioned how…tall you were.”

He shrugged his shoulders in an “oh shucks” kind of way.  “I’m not sure she notices anymore.” 

“I’m just here with friends, thought I’d say hi.  See you at work, Molly.  Tom, it was lovely to meet you.”

“Likewise.”  He sat back down, the pleasant smile still on his face that didn’t leave until the blonde had left.  Molly watched the woman meet up with her friends, another group of girls from the hospital. She started talking and the group collectively glanced towards her table. 

“They’re talking about you, aren’t they?”  Tom’s voice was low as he lifted her hand, kissing her palm.  She smiled. 

“Oh yes, probably discussing  the fact that you’re an actual person.”

“The hospital gossip mill will be running at full steam tomorrow.”

The thought of that made her laugh.  She knew in the past she’d been a headliner in the hospital gossip mill; poor clueless pathologist who was so obvious over her crush on the Consulting Detective, sad really.  She could almost hear them now; she actually had a man, and engaged. I wonder if she realizes she’d fallen for a pale copy?

“We could give them a real show.”  Tom teased.  She grinned at him. 

“Stop.  My name’s going to be headline tomorrow as it is.”

“Might as well go full out then,”   He nodded towards her now empty plate.  “Finished?”

“Oh yes, thank you.”

“So are we skipping the movie tonight?”

She tilted her head. At first glance he really did look like a pale copy.  He’d certainly startled her the first time she’d met him.  But his quick wit and rakish humor- when they weren’t in public- reminded her that he was nothing like the other man.  “Do you mind terribly?  I really am exhausted and Will is teething.”

“Ah yes, my competition.”  He chuckled as he waved for the server.  “William does not like me one bit.”

“Don’t take it personally, Will doesn’t like anyone.”

“Anyone that isn’t mummy or Dana.”

“Exactly.”

He tosses some notes on the table and stood up.  He held out a hand and helped Molly up and into her coat.  Buttoning the first button, he tugged her towards him, lowering his head to kiss her. 

She responded, a hand on her chest as she kissed him back.  But, like always,  she never felt anything when she kissed Tom.  There was no spark, no tangle in her gut she sometimes got when kissing a guy she fancied.  There was no sexual connection, even if they did work so well together.  She felt him smile against her lips as he pulled away and wrapped an arm around her waist.  He dropped another kiss on the temple whispering against her hair. 

“Now you’ve guaranteed your headline for tomorrow.  Possibly the rest of the week.”

 

* * *

 

True to his word, Molly was the headline in the hospital gossip mill…for almost a month.  Just as it began to die down, Tom showed up one afternoon at her work, with flower and a smile, shocking Mike when he walked down the hallway with her.  As she lifted her face for a quick kiss, she noticed Mike’s startled gaze still on the man she called fiancé.  Even when he shook hands, Mike still glanced surreptitiously towards Molly.

And of course, his visit just re-sparked the rumor mill for those who hadn’t seen him and had dismissed Katie’s claims of the man.  Molly and her fiancé were a popular topic.  One that nobody dared bring up around her.


	13. Chapter 13

“Ma.  Ma ma.”

“Yes luv, I hear you.”

“Ma mamamama.”

The first time Will had said Mama, she had cried.  Which of course, made him pout.  Which was all forgiven once she picked him up and covered his little face in kisses.

Now he thought himself clever because he figured out how to say a couple of words: mama, baba, nana -for Dana.  She was trying to teach him new words carefully, because she could see the frustration on his face when he couldn’t quite wrap his mouth properly around what he was trying to repeat.

She never thought she’d ever get tired of hearing Will call for her.

“Ma ma.  Ma ma ma ma ma.”

She walked into the living room where he was sitting on the floor looking up at her, arms extended.  Smiling she scooped him up. 

“What’s wrong my darling?  Need a nappy change?”

His little hands clasp her cheeks and he peered into her eyes, his lower lip jutting out.  She held back a snicker.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

She scooped up her cell phone as she climbed the stairs to the nursery.  Will pulled the phone from her fingers, his own pudgy hands wrapping around it and moving away as she tried to get it back. 

“I’ll not have you phoning Taiwan, William.”

He ignored her, peering at the lock screen.  She sighed as she walked into his room. 

“Just like your father, pays more attention to the phone than the world around him.”

Will still held onto the phone as she laid him down on the changing bed and pulled off his trousers to get at his nappy; his eyes searching the lock screen and his fingers moving against it.    She’d removed the wet nappy, wiped him off and replaced it with a clean one when she heard the sound of her phone being unlocked.  She looked up startled, directly into William’s triumphant eyes.

“Oh you little…”

Her phone began to ring and before she could snatch it away from him, he swiped a finger across the front of the screen. 

“William!”

“Ba baba.”

He let out a indignant squawk when she snatched the phone from his fingers.  Keeping one hand on his squirming body she answered the phone. 

“Hello?  Sorry, my son is more clever than he should be.”

“Molly?”

She smiled at the familiar voice of Mycroft on the other side. Then froze as she realized that Mycroft hardly ever called, he preferred to text.

“What is it, what’s wrong?”

On the other end, she could hear Mycroft sigh. 

“I thought it fair to give you a warning.  He’s home.”

Everything came over her at once;  overwhelming relief, he was home, he was safe, he was back.  The relief gave way to stark terror; what about William, would he know, what would he say?  Would he be angry, would he even care?

“Molly, I can hear your brain running from over the line,”  Mycroft bit out and she blinked. 

“Sorry,”  she took a deep breath and focused on sliding William’s trousers back on as he tried to scramble into a sitting position to grab at the phone, his face frowning.  “Sorry, yes, thank you.”  She bit her lip.  “How…how is he?”

“Not good.  I don’t have much time, he’s cleaning up right now, got himself into a spot of trouble.”

Molly choked back a bit of hysterical laughter. 

“If I know him, he’s first going to want to find John Watson so you have at least a day or two to prepare before he reveals himself in true dramatic fashion.”

She pushed away pudgy hands and received another indignant squawk in return.

“Have you thought about what you’re going to tell him?”

Her eyes went to her son; lower lip jutting out as it did when he didn’t get his way, green blue eyes staring at her, mass of soft black curls adorning his head. 

“Not a thing.”  She heard herself answer.  William was hers.  By rights he’d given her.  He was hers.

“Good girl,”  she heard Mycroft say.   “Tell Algernon he’s much too young for the phones.”

“I’ll tell William his Uncle says hi.”  She countered.  She heard the phone click and slipped it into her back pocket, inciting another indignant squawk from her son. 

“Shush you.”  She picked him up from the changing table and headed back down the stairs, her mind running fast.  She was going to have to call Tom sometime tonight, let him know that his services would probably be needed sooner than later and he would need to keep an opening in his schedule.

 

* * *

 

Dana knew.  Had gotten the message right after Molly.  Tom knew too, discussed it with her when she’d called him that night.

She took extra care with her clothing the next day making sure there was absolutely nothing on her that would indicate she had anything other than Toby in her house.  Her heart was pounding when she got on the tube, popping a mint in her mouth.  He probably wouldn’t even show up until later this week, bursting through her doors like he’d hadn’t just disappeared for two years.   But she couldn’t tap down her nerves. 

She brushed off her sweater as she strolled through St. Bart’s heading for the elevators to take her to the basement.  Once in the elevator, she took a deep breath, counted to five and slowly let it out. 

Today would be a normal day.  He’s seen John last night, there was probably a fight, he’d explained everything, John had forgiven him and right now they were both probably back at Baker Street talking about what each had been up to over the past two years.   She had herself convinced of that by the time she walked into the locker room to store her coat and pick up her lab coat. 

Which is why, when she opened her locker and the mirror attached to the inside of her door caught a figure behind her, she was able to say she was shocked.  She stared at the familiar figure through the small mirror, before spinning around to see if it was just a figment of her imagination. 

There he stood, watching her silently, in his Belstaf and scarf.  She choked back a sob, a grin on her face.  She couldn’t help it. 

She took two quick steps towards him, throwing her arms around his person and hugging him.  She felt him start, could smell the cold and his aftershave. 

It was him, he was really back. 

She felt his arms come around and pat her shoulder twice. 

“Oh!”  She jumped back, her face pink.  “You’re back!  I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean, I mean, I’m just glad you’re back.  That you’re safe!”

He gave her a quick smile, his eyes boring into hers. 

“I’m back.  I’m safe.  England couldn’t do without me it seems.  I wanted to stop by, to let you know before you heard it second hand, wouldn’t be fair.”

She was nodding, her eyes taking him in.  He looked tired, his lip was cut and he looked as if he’d gotten into a scrape last night.  Immediately she went into worry mode.

“Are you all right?  When did you get back?  Is that from wherever you were?”

He lifted a finger to his lips and wrinkled his nose.  Molly bit her lip to keep from smiling because at that moment he reminded her of William.

“No.  I…was in an altercation last night.  Nothing major, I’m sure it’ll all be sorted out soon.”  He straightened, his hands sliding back into his pockets.  “Anyway, things to do.  I’ll see you around Molly.”

With a rush he was out the door.  She looked after him, a bit amused. 

“Welcome back Sherlock.”


	14. Chapter 14

The next morning was her day off. 

She was in the middle of feeding William, or rather attempting to feed William while he decided he could feed himself when her phone went off letting her know she had a text.  William perked up, a hand full of banana slices, searching for her phone.  She pulled it out of her back pocket and he squawked, one mushy hand reaching out to grab it from her. 

“No.  Not with those fingers you aren’t.”

He immediately shoved his fingers into his mouth as Dana walked into the kitchen and headed towards the coffee pot. 

“Morning.”

“Morning.  Forget it Will, you aren’t getting my phone.”

“Ma!  Ma ma!”  His tone make it clear that he was annoyed with her.  She just snickered as she unlocked her phone and read the message. 

Dana turned around watching her face.  “Get called in?”

 

**Come to Baker St.  Important.-SH**

 

“In a way.”  She stood up, sliding the phone back into her pocket. 

“Ma!”

“Can you watch Will for a while?  I’m needed at Baker St.”

Dana smiled.  “That’s why I’m here.  And trust me, I was informed on the Detective’s idea of important.  We’ll be fine.”

“Thanks.  Hopefully it won’t take long, but with Sherlock, one never really knows.”

“Ma!”

Dana took Molly’s seat, putting her coffee behind her on the table.  “You’re so impatient.”

“Comes by it honestly.”

William looked at his mother and then at Dana.

“Na na!”

“Yes, yes, I hear you.”  She placed a couple more pieces of banana on his tray which he picked up and shoved into his mouth. 

Molly hurried and got dressed, throwing an old jumper on over her blouse and spritzing it as she was sure she smelled like mashed bananas and baby powder.  She grabbed her coat and scarf from the rack and hurried back into the kitchen. 

“Be back soon.”  She dropped a kiss on the curls of her son.  He looked up at her, mouth full of bananas, eyeing her suspiciously.  “I’m only off to work.  No Tom.”

Satisfied, he promptly ignored her in favor of more bananas.  Molly and Dana shared an amused look and then she was out the door.

* * *

 

 

She returned in the late afternoon, nose cold, adrenaline finally slowing in her system, heart heavy. 

She’d showed up at Baker Street, not sure what to expect.  An entire day of following Sherlock Holmes around while he solved cases was definitely not it though.  Yet, there she was, spending the day with the Consulting Detective, in his world, sharing knowing looks about clients, using her skills to solve mysteries, taking notes.  From what little she was able to gather John and he had gotten into a fight.  And John still wasn’t talking to him.  And Sherlock needed someone to witness his genius.  As his brother said, he was a diva that way.  On their last case, the poor guy who liked trains entirely too much, as they left he’d surprised her when she asked why he let her tag along. 

A thank you, for her part in his façade.  A deeper glimpse into a world she only usually saw on the outside. 

But when he said he knew she couldn’t do it again, her heart stuttered.  Then he pointed out her ring and she was almost relieved.  She told him about Tom, just the basics she’d told everyone else for months. 

Although, she’d almost blurted out that it was all a lie when he looked at her, smiled sadly and kissed her cheek.  He’d told her that everyone she fell for couldn’t be a sociopath.  If only he knew how wrong he was. 

Dana looked up as she shut the door behind her.

“How did it go?”

Molly pulled off her scarf and coat, and leaned for a moment against the door, letting it support her.  She was mentally and emotionally exhausted.  Being around Sherlock was a constant adrenaline rush, she didn’t understand how John did it all the time.

“I need a long soak in the tub and maybe an entire bottle of red.”  She finally said.   Dana made a face.

“That bad, eh?”

“Ma!”

William crawled around the corner, his face lighting up when he spotted her.  She smiled and pushed off the door walking towards him.  Scooping him up, she hugged his tight, burying her face in his curls and enjoying the scent of baby. 

“I was wrong,”  she told Dana.  “All I needed was my Wills.”


	15. Chapter 15

Two days later, her phone rang while she was at work. 

She picked it up and put it on speaker as she typed, not bothering to pay attention to the name. 

“Hello?”

“Molly?  It’s John.”

Her fingers stopped on the keyboard for only a moment and her eyes skittered to the face of her phone.  She picked it up, taking it off of speaker, her heard pounding.

“H-Hi John.  What can I do for you.”

There was a hesitancy in his voice as well. 

“How are you?”

“Fine.  I’m good.”

“Good, good…listen, I want to apologize for…well, not showing up ever these last two years.”

_Sorry mate, but thank God you didn’t._ She thought. 

“No…I understand.  And I’m so sorry…for my part.  I mean, I couldn’t tell you-

“Yeah, no.  I understand.  Sherlock told me.  I would’ve been mad but being persuaded by Sherlock and then under Mycroft’s thumb, I understand why you didn’t tell anyone.  And it’s not like I was around anyway for you to tell, eh?”

She remained silent, listening to him clear his throat.  She didn’t know what to say. 

“The reason I’m phoning.  Are you off this evening?”

She blinked.  “Um…yeah, did you need me to stay?”

“No, no.  It’s…well,  I’m not sure you know but I’m engaged.”

“Oh,”  she blinked again.  “Oh, congratulations John.”

“Thanks.  Mary’s great.  Anyway, we’re having a gathering at Baker Street tonight, kind of a “Welcome Back you Arse” thing.”

Molly laughed. 

“I was wondering if you could make it.  I heard you’re engaged too, congratulations.  You can bring him, if you want.  Sort of meet the new folks thing.”

She mentally ran through all the things she had to do that evening, and hoped that maybe Tom would be available.  “Yeah, yeah that sounds good.  I’ll have to call Tom and see if he’s off but yeah.  What time?”

“Oh, seven?”

“Great.”

“Great.  It’s good to hear you again Molly.”

She smiled.  “You too John.”

She clicked off her phone and took a deep breath.  Then dialed the number she had for Tom. 

“Hello?”

“Hi, it’s Molly.”

He chuckled on the other end.  “I know it’s you Molly.”

“Sorry.  Um, we’ve been invited to Baker Street tonight for a get together.  Are you available?”

“To finally meet the great Sherlock Holmes?  What time do you want me to pick you up?”

* * *

 

 

The weather was cold and they huddled against it as they walked down Baker Street towards 221.

“I’m so excited.  I never thought I’d get to hear one of Will’s first words.”  Tom joked dryly. 

Molly snorted back a laugh.  The last couple of times Molly had prepared to go out with Tom and William had realized it he’d tried a new tactic of ignoring Tom when he’d come to collect her, giving up on his fake sobbing in favor of just crawling away and hiding until the two had left.  

Tonight, there hadn’t been any preparation, no getting ready, no slow realization that  “that man” was taking his mummy out. 

William had been sitting in the living room playing with a toy when Tom walked in.  The baby’s head shot up when he heard Tom’s voice, and then shot to find his mother as she was sliding on her coat.  All plans of ignoring them flew away as he gave her a look of pure betrayal, opened his mouth and yelled. “No!”  before beginning to cry.

“Someone’s going to need extra snuggles when I get home.”

As they approached 221, they spotted a small group of reporters crowding around the sidewalk.  Tom pulled his hat lower on his head and pulled up his coat collar.  “A welcome back party indeed.”

She quickly opened the main door and pushed Tom into the building, blocking his view from any of the reporters. 

“I’m more afraid of what poor Dana’s putting up with.”  He chuckled as he tugged off his hat and ruffled his hair.  He watched her as she stared up the stairs tentatively, waiting a moment before nudging her arm. 

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?  We can still escape and forget this entire party.”

She looked from the stairs and smiled up at him. 

“No,  No I have to do this.”  She took a deep breath and slid her arm through his.  “Let’s get this over with.”

They climbed the stairs, the voices growing louder the closer they got. 

The door to 221 B was open and she could hear Greg Lestrade’s laughter as they walked in.  She took another deep breath and pasted a bright smile on her face. 

“Hi everyone!”  she called out as they entered.  “This is Tom.”

Tom waved towards the room.  “Hi.”

She saw John turn to greet her and stop when he caught sight of Tom.   She could actually see his brain buffer for a moment, quite like Sherlock’s, but he was quicker to catch himself and give her a smile. 

“Hi.  Sherlock?”  he called out, half looking behind him towards the hallway.

“Let me take your coat dears,”  Mrs. Hudson gave her a smile, the older woman’s eyes cutting quickly towards Tom.  She turned towards Mrs. Hudson  as she slid off her coat and therefore missed Sherlock’s reaction when he walked out into the main room. 

The man himself was muttering to John as he walked out of the kitchen.  His head lifted and his eyes widened fractionally, his footstep halting only a fraction of a second before he caught himself.  He immediately looked to John who was already giving him a knowing look.  Tom didn’t react, didn’t acknowledge that he noticed anything between the two men’s silent conversation but made a mental note to mention it to Molly on their way home. 

“I need my coat.”  Sherlock muttered as Molly turned back and tapped Tom on the shoulder. 

“Coat?”

“Oh, yeah.”  He slipped off his trench and handed it over. 

“There’s drinks and nibbles in the kitchen, dears.”

Tom and Molly shared a look.

“Wine?”  he murmured. 

“Oh God, yes.”

He wrapped an easy arm around her waist as she led the way to the kitchen.  He lowered his head to drop a kiss on her temple.

“The double takes we’ve been getting are a laugh.  Now I understand why I was brought on.”  He whispered against her hair.  She giggled as they entered the kitchen.

A woman she’d never seen was pouring a glass of wine.  She looked up, her eyes widening as she caught sight of them.

“Oh…wow.”  She said.  Molly frowned, not sure who she was. 

“Hello,”  she said cautiously.  The woman looked at Tom for another moment, her gaze thoughtful before she suddenly grinned and held out a hand.

“Hello.  I’m Mary Morstan, John’s fiancé.”

“Oh!”  Molly smiled and took the blond woman’s hand.  “Hello, I’m Molly Hooper.”

Mary’s smile turned mischievous.  “Oh I know.  I mean, John’s talked about you.”

It was Molly’s turn to be surprised. 

“Really?  I…I just…didn’t expect…really?”

“Darling?”  Tom handed her a glass full of red and she took it, giving him a smile before downing half the glass. 

Mary was positively grinning.  Her eyes moved to a spot behind her and her grin brightened.  Tom looked over as he was taking a drink. 

“Behave,”  she heard John say and she turned around.  Sherlock and John stood in the kitchen.  Sherlock was studying Tom and Molly suddenly had a rush of fear that Mycroft was right and he would deduce Tom’s true role in her life right before loudly announcing it to the entire flat.   John nudged his shoulder and Sherlock gave a fake smile. 

Oh God, this was going to be horrible.

“Sherlock,”  Mary chided playfully.  “Be nice to Molly’s fiancé.”

Sherlock’s smile turned wolfish.  His gaze flicked to Mary and Molly saw true fondness in the man’s eyes.  And for one moment, she was insanely jealous that a woman she didn’t even know could invoke a positive emotion in a man she’d known for years. 

“Very well.”  His gaze turned back to Tom.  “Hello.”

Tom smiled widely.  “Hi.  Nice flat.”

“Quite.”

With a sweeping gaze to Mary, Molly and finally John, he turned and swept out of the kitchen.  Tom chuckled nervously, every inch of his demeanor the awkward overly friendly man he portrayed to the public. 

“Doesn’t talk much, does he?”

Mary took a drink of her wine, wisely saying nothing but sharing a look with John.  Molly just shook her head feigning embarrassment.  She knew what Tom was doing, playing the fool, but by God, he’d need to tone it down before Sherlock figured him out. 

John stepped into the kitchen.  “If only that were true.”  He took the glass of wine Mary offered him and kissed her cheek.  “Thank you.”  Taking a sip, he turned to Molly and Tom.  “So, how did you two meet?”

* * *

 

 

They were there about an hour, mingling at first but finally ending back up in the kitchen where Mary and Mrs. Hudson were holding court.  John had wandered back off into the main room and Tom remained in the kitchen with the women, leaning against the wall by the entryway listening to the women talk when Molly’s phone chimed letting her know she had a text. 

“Oh, excuse me.”

She pulled her phone from her pocket and looked at her text.

 

**Sorry to bother.  Thought you should know that Will is being a beast.-DM**

 

She groaned softly, looking back at Tom.  He tilted his head, walking towards where she was sitting.  She tilted the phone so he could read the text.  He snorted lightly and gave her a look. 

“Time to go?”

Mary looked between them.

“Problem?”

Molly faked a smile as she tucked her phone back in her pocket.

“Nothing too bad.  But we do have to dash.”

“Oh, let me get your coats, dears.”

Mrs. Hudson was up and out of the kitchen before Molly stood up.  She looked at the blonde still sitting. 

“It was lovely to meet you Mary.”

Mary stood up and shook Molly’s hand.  “You also.  I do hope we get a chance to talk again.”

They took their coats from Mrs. Hudson and headed back towards the door.

“Leaving so soon?”

Sherlock was standing beside the fireplace, arms folded across his chest.  She glanced back to Tom who was buttoning up his coat and saying goodbye to the other men in the room.  She looked back at Sherlock. 

“Yes, sorry.  Work called.”

“You worked this morning.”

“I did.  But there are several techs out sick so I told Mike I’d be on call if he needed me.”

He studied her for a moment. 

“Thank you for coming Molly.”

She smiled, gave John a hug and took Tom’s hand as they walked out. 

They were quiet until they left the building completely.  Tom waved down a taxi and shuffled her in. 

“I understand why the boss is worried,” he murmured against her hair.  “Do you know how much he watches you?”

She gave him a startled look. 

“Who?”

“Your detective.”

She laughed nervously.  “He’s hardly mine Tom.  And I seriously doubt that, I’m just his pathologist.”

Tom wisely said nothing, just sat back in silence on the ride home.

* * *

 

 

Dana met her when she walked into the house.

“I didn’t mean for you to leave your party.”

“Trust me, it was no bother.”

She hung up her coat and looked around.  The living room was scattered with baby toys but there wasn’t a petulant baby to be found. 

“Where’s Will?”

Dana crooked a smile and a finger and Molly followed her to the kitchen.  She pointed to one of the lower cabinets where they kept the plastic bins and containers.  There was a mess scattered on the floor. 

“He had a full out tantrum.  Hid in there and screamed every time I tried to get him out.  Absolutely wasn’t faking this time.  He wasn’t hurting anything and everything in there is safe so I figured if he wanted to stay in there, I wasn’t going to say he couldn’t.”

She opened the cabinet and bit back a smile.  Behind her Dana cooed and snapped a picture on her phone.  William was curled up amid the plastic container he hadn’t managed to toss out, sound asleep, his face still wet from tears. 

“Oh, my poor put upon little boy,”  she cooed, pulling him from the cabinet and into her arms.  He whimpered in his sleep and wrapped his arms around her neck. 

“it’s alright Wills, Mummy’s home now.”

She buried her face in his hair and closed her eyes.

If she had to make a choice between her son and her fake fiancé/security detail, her boy would win every time.

 


	16. Chapter 16

 

The month passed and with it the very serious discussion with both Tom and Mycroft regarding the ending of her fake engagement. 

Mycroft was against the idea, insisting that for her and Will’s own good she continue to play this out.

“What good will it do?”  she asked him.  He had come to her office one afternoon after checking on Sherlock’s whereabouts to make certain the detective wouldn’t stride in and interrupt their discussion.  “William hates him Mycroft, absolutely hates him.  And I like Tom, honestly I do, but if it comes down to choosing between Will and Tom, which it pretty much has, I’ll choose Will each time.  I still have security in Dana and I’ve been taking defense classes.  I’ll take more if you like.  Tom and I discussed it and it doesn’t have to be an immediate thing.  He brought up a good point, I’ll need a date for John and Mary’s wedding.  We can break our engagement soon after that.”

Mycroft said nothing, merely watched her silently for a moment.  At one time this would’ve intimidated her, but after almost two years of this man being a constant in her life, more so than before, she was surprisingly used to it.  Finally he spoke.

“It sounds as if you’ve thought this out carefully.”

She smiled.  “One must consider all angles when dealing with a Holmes brother.”

Mycroft leaned forward, his hands resting on her ever-present umbrella. 

“I know in the past he used your previous flat as a bolt hole just as I know now that he hasn’t bother to seek you out because of your engagement and some version of propriety to you that he not ruin it.  Once your supposed engagement is off there will be nothing to stop him for discovering your current residence and upon that, discovering Algernon.”

Molly kept from rolling her eyes. 

“I’m hardly going to announce my break up, am I.  John will probably ask Sherlock to be his best man and you know your brother, he’ll throw himself completely into it.  Which means I have at least five months there.  As I’ve said, Tom and I aren’t planning a break up until after the wedding and hopefully he won’t deduce anything for a while.  I might make it until summer before he catches on.  After that, I’ll figure it out.”

She shrugged.  “I understand you’re trying to protect William and I, Mycroft, and I appreciate it.  But I can’t stay in a pretend engagement forever and I can’t make William any more miserable.  Something has to change.”


	17. Chapter 17

Christmas arrived and with it William’s first time opening presents. 

His blue green eyes were alight with excitement when Molly brought him downstairs and he saw the tree and all the presents.

Dana was sitting on the setee, a mug of coffee in her hand.

“Happy Christmas,”  she announced as Molly dropped him in her lap.  He immediately tried to wriggle off her lap  in order to make his way to the tree but Dana held fast.

“You have to be patient,”  she laughed at his pout out expression.  “Mummy’s getting a cuppa.”

William was all vibrating nervous energy until Molly returned to the living room and nodded.  He was off Dana’s lap and half crawling towards the tree when Molly spoke.

“Will, sit.  I’ll bring your presents.”

He flopped on his butt and grinned at the first brightly wrapped present within his grasp.  He immediately began ripping paper and laughing excitedly when he reached the toy underneath.  He went through present after present, examining each present before reaching for the next one.  There were books and toys, clothing and videos and a toy phone he quickly realized wasn’t nearly as neat as his mothers.

Finally he ran out of presents and looked around for more.  Molly smiled tiredly. 

“Greedy, you’re all out.  Play with what you have around you.”

“Actually, he does have one more.”  Dana said.  She handed a card to Molly and a small professionally wrapped package to Will.  Molly opened the card as Will ripped into the present. 

 

**It’s much too early in the winter but come spring there will be a small playset placed in the backyard, along with a privacy fence.  Consider it both Christmas and his upcoming birthday present.  Not that he still won’t get something small.**

**M**

 

Dana’s burst of laughter made Molly look up from the card. 

Sitting on the floor William had finally managed to get the box open and pulled out a baby sized deerstalker.  He was frowning at it before putting it on his head sideways.  Molly burst out laughing. 

Mycroft Holmes with a perverse sense of humor was not what she’d ever expected.

Still laughing, she pulled out her phone and got down on her knees.  She pulled the hat off of his head and readjusted it correctly.  He lifted his head, trying to figure out what it was.   Dana was still laughing. 

“William, just sit still for a moment, let Mummy take this picture.  I can’t believe your Uncle bought this.” 

Still giggling Molly snapped the picture.  William sat still, a confused pout on his face as both she and Dana snapped their pictures before pulling it from his head and looking at it once more before tossing it to the side and reaching for one of his toys. 

Dana snatched up the hat and placed it next to her on the setee.  “That’s the best thing I’ve ever seen and I’ve seen the newspaper pictures.  I’m not even going to try to pretend I’m clueless on who Will’s father is because that was almost a mini version of him.  All he needed was that great coat of his and it would have been perfect.”

Molly snickered as she sent the picture to Mycroft.  “I’m sure if he didn’t think it would tempt fate, he would have had one commissioned.”

 

* * *

 

Mycroft was sitting in the kitchen of his parent’s house bored out of his mind and he still had hours here before he could reasonably make an excuse to flee. 

Across the table, Sherlock was reading a paper and shoving scones into his mouth as their mother bustled around the kitchen talking nonstop about something or another.  Their father was out on his daily constitutional and neither of them felt up to facing the cold to join him. 

His phone beeped and he noticed the paper lower just a tad. 

“That better not be work.”  His mother scolded. 

“Perish the thought.”  He muttered as he unlocked the phone and noticed the text was from Molly.  “Excuse me.”

He stood up and walked into the living room, hearing the chair across from him scrape as Sherlock stood up also. 

“Mummy, did Sherlock tell you he’s to be a best man?”  Mycroft asked.  Their mother started talking excitedly and he bit back a smirk at the dirty look his younger brother threw him as he was cornered by their mother.  He took the moment to escape and open the text. 

There was no message, merely a photo of a perplexed looking William sitting on the floor surrounded by ripped wrapping paper and unopened boxes with the deerstalker on his head.  He smiled smugly.  He knew it would fit perfectly and he knew Molly would find the humor in the small gift.

“That was just cruel.”  Sherlock said as he swept into the sitting room.  Mycroft closed the picture and slid his phone back into his jacket.  “Are you leaving?  You’re taking me with you, I’ll not stay here with them while you escape.”

“Would serve you right brother mine, but alas, we are both here for the duration.”

 


	18. Chapter 18

The night was quiet.  Molly had spent the day with her beloved baby boy only leaving once he’d fallen asleep.  She’d told Mike she would work the overnight holiday; she’d done it for years, it would be silly to change now.  In actuality she didn’t want to cause suspicion if she wasn’t there.  Granted she had the cover story of a fiancée now, but things could still be reexamined and examined closer.  And a little part of her wanted to be in the lab in case Sherlock did show. 

So she finished her paperwork in the lab, Christmas music coming from the speakers on her computer from her office, when the doors to the lab opened. 

“Molly?”  She heard his voice call out in question.  As if he wasn’t sure she’d be here this year.  She stepped out from her office. 

“In here!”

She caught a quick flash of relief on his face before it was gone and he was whipping off his scarf. 

“How was your holiday?”  she asked. 

“Tedious,”  he replied as he pulled off his coat and tossed it over the nearby table.  “I don’t know why Mycroft forces me to socialize with our parents every year.”

“Because they’re your parents.”  She answered.  “Be grateful you still have them.”

He froze, looking contrite for a moment.  “My apologies.  How was your holiday?”

She smiled, knowing his apology was for his rash comments.  “Nice, thank you.  Spent a quiet day with loved ones.”

He cleared his throat, obviously ready to move from the niceties.  “I’m bored and not the least bit tired.  Thought I’d work on some experiments.”

“Be my guest.  Just remember to clean up after yourself when finished.”

The next song on the station started and he winced. 

“Oh sorry, I’ll go turn that off-“

“Leave it.”  He said.  “It’s…it’s fine, I can ignore it.”

“Okay.”  She returned to her office, turning down the radio a little as a compromise.  She finished her reports and sent them into the computer.  She had two rush tests that needed to be done still and when she went out into the lab to perform them, Sherlock didn’t say a word, the two working in comfortable silence with Christmas music playing in the background.   It occurred to her that he didn’t have to come to the lab, especially this year.  That there was more than a very good chance that he was here only because she was.  That here there was no Tom, not Mycroft, no case.  That he had started using the lab as a kind of a bolt hole, not one he slept in like he used to in her apartment, but he was coming here more often when he knew she worked the overnights.  She liked to think it was because he missed her and their unusual time they used to spend together when he was at her apartment.  Chances were she was completely off the mark, but it was nice to think so. 

He stayed until about half past four before cleaning up his area and  donning his coat and scarf and giving her a polite nod and a “good night Molly”  before sweeping out the door.  Her replacement arrived at five and she knew there was no good reason he remained almost the entire evening with her other than to keep watch.  She cleaned her area, turned off the music and was ready to leave when her replacement arrived.  Unknown or not, his staying with her that night was a most appreciated Christmas present.


	19. Chapter 19

Christmas and the New Year turned up nothing eventful and soon spring was on the horizon.  With it came the first birthday for William.  The one year old, who had no idea what the words “Happy Birthday”  meant, only knew that everyone was excited and happy and therefore it was a good day.  He toddled on legs that were still a bit wobbly on days but mostly he was mobile, walking and mostly getting in everyone’s way.  He currently stood in the kitchen, one hand clutching onto his mother’s trouser leg.

“Mama. Up.”

“No, not up.  If I pick you up, you’ll be in the cake.”

His lower lip jutted out, blue green eyes shining in frustration.  Molly looked down at him smiling.  His hair was wild; all curls and in his face.  As much as it pained her, she was going to have to get his hair cut soon.  It was getting much too long.

Seeing the look in her eye and deciding to press his advantage, he tugged again. 

“Up.”

“Not while I’m around the cake, William.”

The lower lip jutted out further and he let go of her trouser leg. 

“Something smells good.”  Dana said as she walked into the kitchen.  William made a bee line for her, his arms held up. 

“Nana.  Up.”

“Don’t you dare!”  Molly called out.  Dana was half bent, hands under his armpits.  She looked up awkwardly. 

“Ummm.”

“He’s been trying to get me to pick him up all day so he can get to his cake.”

William was trying to tug himself up into her arms.  “Up!  Up, Nana!”

Shrugging, Dana picked him up and pointed at his victorious grin.  “I’m not taking you by your mother though.”

He pointed towards Molly.  “Go.”

“What did I just say, you little monster?”  She dug a finger into his side and he shrieked in laughter, wigging away from her finger. 

The doorbell rang and William immediately looked towards his mother.  Molly picked up a tea towel to wipe her hands clean. 

“It’s probably Uncle Mycroft.”

“Mimi!”  William yelled, struggling to be put down.  Dana put him back on the floor and he made a wobbly beeline towards the front door, Dana following him.  He slapped at the door, looked back at Dana as she reached for the door.  “Mimi!”

“Hold on monster, let’s see if it’s your Uncle Mimi.”  She peeked through the spyhole and, using her foot to move William away from the door, opened it to reveal Mycroft standing on the porch.  He stepped in giving Dana a look. 

“Algernon is the only one allowed to address me at such, Agent Morris.”

Dana hid a smile as she closed the door.  “Sorry Sir.”

“Mimi!”  William yelled happily heading towards him.  Mycroft held up a hand and the toddler stopped. 

“Come along Algernon.”  He passed Dana, heading towards the lavatory on the main floor, William obediently toddling after him.  Shaking her head, she headed back into the kitchen.  Molly looked up as Dana walked back in. 

“Was that Mycroft?”

“Yep.”

“Where’s William?”

“Where do you think?  Following his Uncle like an obedient puppy.”

Molly giggled as she set the kettle up.  “He does adore his Uncle.”

“Makes you wonder how much he’d love his Father.”

Molly cast her a look.  “Dana, no.  William is mine.  Sherlock is not in any mind state to even comprehend William much less behave like a proper father.  He did his part.  He gave me William, I don’t want anything else from him.”

Mycroft walked into the kitchen holding William and both women stared.  Instead of his usual three piece suit, he was now wearing a polo shirt and semi casual trousers.  Dana lifted a hand to her mouth and Molly just tilted her head in confusion.  He noticed their looks as he stepped in. 

“After the last time I spent a considerable amount of time with Algernon, Anthea pointed out after I’d returned to the office that I had a small stain of something on my shirt.  Therefore, it’s reasonable to bring a change of clothing when spending a decent amount of time around this tiny walking disaster.”

William giggled, his head leaning against Mycroft’s shoulder.  Dana threw up her hands and turned towards the cabinets. 

“I can’t.  This is like a weird episode of the Outer Limits.”

Molly snickered.  “So, presents or cake first?”

Mycroft looked at the cake sitting on the counter and then back at the baby in his arms.  “What say you Algernon, cake or presents?”

“Ake!  Ake!”  William gave his mother a look and Molly grinned. 

“It’s seems as if the birthday boy has spoken.”  Mycroft stated. 

“Fine.  Cake and tea first, then presents.”

“Both would be lovely, I missed lunch.”

“Oh, I can whip up some sandwiches if you’re hungry.”  Molly said.  Mycroft inclined his head. 

“That would be appreciated, thank you.”

“Sure!”

Mycroft put William in his high chair as Molly went about making sandwiches.  The toddler immediately started banging on his tray. 

“Algernon, one does not bang on his table like a common hooligan.”  Mycroft chastised.   Behind him Dana and Molly shared an amused look.  The banging slowed and stopped and William looked at his Uncle, his forehead creased in confusion.  Mycroft nodded. 

“Well done.  A proper gentleman sits quietly in his seat and waits for the ladies to join them.”

William let out a heavy sigh, his lower lip jutting out once more as he glared towards Dana and Molly. 

“Your father never quite managed it either.”

“Mama!”  William yelled and Mycroft shook his head. 

“So much for proper manners.”

“You got him to stop banging on the tray so I’m counting it as a win.”  Molly placed a tray of sandwiches on the table and went to get the teapot.  Dana set out all the other tea things and placed a bottle on William’s tray.  He immediately grabbed it and starting drinking still watching everything going on around him.  Molly lit the candle and placed the smaller cake onto the table before him.  William’s eyes immediately went to the candle and the flame, his bottle forgotten in favor of this new thing. 

Molly and Dana sang Happy Birthday, Mycroft even joining in.  William’s eyes searched the three people in front of him, then went back to the cake. 

“Blow out the candle luv.”  Molly said.  He stared at her.  She pretended to blow and his eyes lit up.  With a very wet raspberry, he blew at the candle.  Molly who was next to him, blew also so the candle went out.  William’s eyes widened and he clapped, laughing.  Dana shook her head. 

“Glad that’s his piece and not the entire cake.”

“Shush you, I knew it was going to be a mess.”  She cut slices for the three of them, took the candle from William’s piece and placed the cake on his tray.  As she served the other pieces, William eyed the slice of cake.  He stuck on finger into the middle and pulled it out studying the cake on his finger.  The finger went into his mouth and his eyes lit up at the texture and taste.  Immediately fingers went after the cake, pulling it apart and eating it.  Molly smiled, her phone ready and snapping pictures. 

“It’s all about the deduction.”  She joked.

 

* * *

 

Mycroft was sitting on the setee while Molly was pulling out William’s presents.  Dana was still in the kitchen, cleaning off the remainders of William’s first foray into cake. 

“The builders are scheduled to be here the week after next both to install the privacy fence in the back and then to build the play set for William.”  The tea cup and saucer were balanced delicately on his knee as he watched her.  From the floor, she gave him a bright smile.

“Thank you Mycroft.  You do too much for him.”

“I’m afraid I don’t do enough.”

“Nonsense.”  She placed the final gift and stood up, brushing off her trousers.   “You’ve done so much more for both William and I than I’ve even expected or asked for that matter.  William adores you.”

“I am not much for sentiment; it’s a weakness, a chink in the armour if you will.  I’m afraid growing up, I taught my dear brother the same lessons I learned; back then it was how we survived, being so much more intelligent than the other children.  Sherlock and I were prodigies, the other children thought us freaks.  It was easier not to care.  But now,”  he glanced towards the kitchen.  “I find I do care, I care very much what happens to Algernon.  He is the chink in my armour that I will gladly accept.  At first I mocked my brother when he befriended John and you and Mary.  Then I was annoyed with him because in creating his makeshift little family, he forced me into the position of protector of you as well.  Now, I understand his feelings.  I would risk anything, do anything to make sure Algernon remains safe and happy.

Molly was smiling, running a hand over her eyes.  “Thank you Mycroft.  I’d hug you but I’ll not push my luck.  But I am a bit nervous.  I’ve looked at all the websites, read all the books; William is advanced, more so than other children his age.  Even his pediatrician is impressed that he’s walking.  He may not be able to express it in words yet, but he sees so much, understands so much.  I’m afraid I won’t be able to keep up with him as he grows.”

Mycroft finished his tea and placed the cup onto the table next to the settee.  “Molly, Algernon is not his father.  There is too much attention paid to him in this house for that to ever happen.  When the time comes that he is in need of extra education, we will take care of it.”

She nodded as the sound of tiny feet came running into the sitting room.  “Thank you.”

“Mimi!”  William raced into the room as quickly as his feet could move him.  He skidded to a halt when he saw the presents, stopping much too fast and losing his balance, falling on his bottom.  He stared at the presents and then looked at his mother and Mycroft.

“Dat?”  he asked pointing at the presents. 

“Those,”  Dana answered as she followed him into the sitting room.  “Are your presents, little monster.  It’s your birthday, you’re a whole year older.  So we give you things to tear apart.”

He turned his body to look at Dana, watching her as she passed him to sit in the chair.  “Me?”

“You.”  She answered.  Molly sat back down and patted the floor beside her. 

“You want to open presents?”

He half crawled towards her, his eyes lighting up with the prospect of opening presents.  Mycroft leaned forward holding out a brightly wrapped gift. 

“Open this first Algernon.  I’m afraid I must dash.  They’re sending a car for me now.”

William took the present from him and ripped open the package.  His eyes lit up at the stuffed dog and clutched it to him.  Molly smiled. 

“Looks as if he has a new favorite toy.”

“Indeed,”  He stood up and William climbed to his feet, other presents forgotten for the moment, the stuffed dog clutched in one hand. 

“Up!”  he demanded.  Mycroft lifted him and William put both hand on his cheeks looking into his eyes.  He placed a loud kiss on his cheek and gave him a bright grin. 

“You are quite welcome, nephew mine.”  Putting William back down, he stroked his curls before heading towards the back bathroom to change.  William, dog still in his lap, went back to opening presents while Molly and Dana shared a look. 

“He could be Will’s father.”  Dana said, her voice quiet.  Molly gave a smirk. 

“No.  I do like Mycroft but not enough to have his child.  At the time, I hardly think he would’ve found me worthy.”

“But to be fair you didn’t really sleep with Will’s dad either, did you.”

“Rub it in Dana,”  Molly joked as Mycroft walked back into the sitting room, three piece suit back in place and spotless.   William looked at his Uncle, still smiling. 

“Bye bye, Mimi!”  he yelled.  A small smile slid across Mycroft’s face. 

“Goodbye Algernon.”  Nodding to the two women, he took his leave.  Dana waited until the door was closed before leaning back in the chair. 

“Never a dull time when the boss is here.”


	20. Chapter 20

An hour later, the sitting room was clean of wrapping paper, the dishes were put away and William was yawning, the stuffed dog still in his hands. 

“I think it might be someone’s nap time.”  Dana said as she scooped the birthday boy up.

“Noooo,”  he whined, yawning again. 

“Yes,” Molly retorted.  The doorbell rang and she looked at it.  “You expecting anyone else?”

“No,”  Dana handed William over to Molly and headed towards the door.  “You expecting a package?”

“No.”  One hand went against the back of William’s head, holding him to her as she took a step back.  The doorbell rang again and Dana peeked through the spy hole. 

“There’s a short haired blond out here.  Never seen her.”

Molly hurried towards the door, peeking through the spyhole. 

“It’s Mary,”  she whispered.  Her heart slammed against her chest, her fight or flight instinct racing.  How did Mary know where she lived?  Her address was supposed to be secret so no one could find them. She and Dana shared a look. 

“What do you want me to do?”  Dana asked, her voice low.  Deciding quickly, she handed a half asleep yet mildly curious William back to Dana. 

“Take him upstairs.  Get him ready for nap.  It should be fine. “  She dropped a kiss on her son’s head.  Dana nodded and turned to hurry up the stairs.  Molly watched until she couldn’t see her anymore, took a deep breath and opened the door.  Mary was looking at the street and turned back as the door opened.  Her face was open and smiling. 

“Hi!  Sorry I’m dropping by unannounced, I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d drop by for a bit.  I haven’t interrupted anything, have I?”

“No.  Come on in. “  Molly opened the door further and let the woman in.  Mary looked around the house as Molly shut and locked the door. 

“Would you like some tea?”

“That would be lovely, it’s a bit windy out.”

She followed Molly into the warm kitchen, her feet halting when she spotted the high chair. 

“Have company?”

“Oh, my friend from Uni and her child are staying with me for a bit.  With Tom always away on trips, it gets lonely a bit so Dana’s been keeping me company.”  She pulled out the tea things again as Mary took a seat at the table.  “I didn’t know you knew where I lived?”

“Oh, I got it from John, I hope you don’t mind.  I so wanted to talk to you again, and to tell the truth, Sherlock is getting a bit on my nerves.  However do you and John deal with him?”

Molly laughed.  “What’s he doing?”

“Currently?  He’s still interviewing the bridal party.  Last I heard he was in negotiations with my ring bearer.  I had to leave, couldn’t take it anymore.  This entire flat is set up with spreadsheets and color coded maps of the entire venue.”

“Oh God, the best man speech.”  She put the kettle one and turned to look at Mary, horrified.  “Someone has to get copies of the best man speech and edit that thing.”

Mary waved it off.  “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“You have met Sherlock before, haven’t you?”

Mary laughed.  “From the moment you walked into the Sherlock’s kitchen, I knew I was going to like you.”

The kettle whistled and Molly set about getting the tea ready.  Footsteps were heard and a moment later Dana stepped into the kitchen. 

“Oh hello.” 

Mary smiled up at her, her posture bright and carefree.  “Hello, you must be Dana.”

Dana glanced towards Molly who gave an agreeable smile. 

“I was telling Mary how you and you son were staying with me for a while.”

“Ah yes, well, he’s down for nap now.  Should be out for a couple of hours so at least it’ll be quiet.”

Mary laughed.  “How old is he?”

“Just turned one today.  Had a busy morning which is why he’ll sleep for a couple of hours.”  She cast Molly another look.  “I’m going to try to take a nap while I have the chance, sorry to dash.”

“Not at all.”  Mary turned back around in her seat.  “I’ll just have a lovely catch up with Molly.”  She beamed at her.  “I’m sure we’ll be fast friends.”

 

* * *

 

Two hours later Mary left the house after having a lovely conversation with Molly, confirming where the pathologist lived now, scoping out her bodyguard and after spotting the single picture in the living room and noticing the child, realizing that the baby that lived in that house was definitely not Dana’s.  She’d have to ask John, in a very roundabout way, but she was willing to take a bet that neither man knew about the child living in Molly’s home or rather, that Molly herself had actually moved.   She was halfway home before she noticed she’d been followed ever since she’d gotten off the tube at her stop.  It seemed Dana had done exactly what she’d suspected and called her boss to verify Mary’s story.  Luckily, Mary was not stupid and had covered her tracks, but she was very interested to know who was taking a vested interest in keeping Molly hidden.  She had a thought, but best to wait until it was confirmed.  

As she was ready to step off the curb, a black car slid easily before her, the door opening smoothly.  She peered down and into the car, her face a completely fake look of surprise when she saw Mycroft sitting in the car. 

“Do get in Ms. Morstan.”

She slid into the car, letting the person holding the door shut it behind her. 

“Why Mr. Holmes, this is a surprise.  Come to try your hand at paying me off to keep an eye on your brother?”

“We both know that would be fruitless.  I understand you visited Doctor Hooper this afternoon.”

“You do know everything, don’t you?”

He gave her a barely there cold smile.  “It is my job.”

“Well, yes, I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by to see if Molly was home.  Truth be told, I needed a bit of away time from your brother and the wedding planning.”

“He is quite taken with this role you’ve given him.”

Mary’s smile never really quite left her face.  “I do adore your brother Mr. Holmes, I haven’t had to do much except buy the dress.”

“How did you come to find where Doctor Hooper lived?”

“Hmmm?  Oh, I told John I was thinking about popping in to see her and he gave me the address.”

“He couldn’t have.”

“He must’ve done.”  She pulled a slip of paper from her bag, Molly’s address written on it in John’s handwriting.   “See?  He got it off of the directory for Bart’s.”

She was very good at her job, both mimicking her fiancé’s handwriting and entering the address she’d discovered in her search into St. Bart’s employee directory so they would find it.  She knew Sherlock wouldn’t look in there, he and John still assumed Molly lived in her old flat with her new fiancé…a fiancé that she was quite sure didn’t really exist, no matter how adorable awkward and familiar he looked.  Mycroft glanced at the paper and texted someone.  The car slowed and stopped at a curb.  Mycroft looked back at her. 

“Enjoy the rest of your afternoon Ms. Morstan.”

The door opened and Mary was not at all surprised to see they were right in front of the flat she shared with John.  With a nod to Mycroft she slipped out and onto the sidewalk.  The car drove off quietly, giving no indication that it had even been there.  However, Mary now had confirmation of all of her suspicions.  The child must be important if the British Government himself was pulling the strings to keep him hidden.


	21. Chapter 21

The double doors to the lab opened with a flourish and the lab techs behind her looked up startled.  Molly, used to the flamboyant act, continued her tests. 

“Molly, I need your expertise.”  Sherlock called out, completely ignoring the lab techs.  Molly ignored the snickering behind her and finally looked up. 

“Good afternoon, Sherlock.”

It was amazing how things could go back to normal after two years away.  Yet, here he was, months after his triumphant return, things pretty much back to base normal.  He crossed the floor and gave her a tight smile. 

“Yes, yes, good afternoon, what are you working on?  Something for a case?”

“Nothing so exciting, I’m afraid.  Just routine testing for patients.  How can I help?”

He rocked back on his heels, coat unbuttoned, scarf tied loosely around his neck and proceeded to explain in rather dizzying detail just what he needed from her.  She was shocked.  She was impressed.  It was actually a rather clever idea for a pub crawl and exactly one Sherlock Holmes would’ve thought up. 

“Where do I come in?”

“Don’t want to get ill. Could ruin it- spoil the mood.”

She turned away from the tests and leaned a hip against the counter to get a good look at him.  What he was asking was child’s play.  Something he could do in his sleep. 

“You’re a graduate chemist.  You can’t just work it out?”

“I lack the practical experience.”

She wasn’t sure if she should be insulted or annoyed.  So she went for a little of both.

“Meaning you think I like a drink?”

“Occasionally.”

She hadn’t had more than a glass of wine in months.  Not that he knew that. 

“That I’m a drunk.”

“No. No!”  His expression was one of someone who just realized that there might have been insult intended and was desperately trying to cover it up.  He looked away for just a moment before turning back to her.  “You look…well.”

She raised an eyebrow curious to see where this line was going to take him. 

“I am.”

“How’s…”  Her lips thinned as she watched him rapidly search his brain for the name of her supposed fiancé.  “Tom?”

“Not a sociopath.”

“Good.”

And just because he looked much too relieved at the moment, she decided to mess with him a bit.

“And we’re having quite a lot of sex.”

She swore she could literally see his brain buffer.  His eyes scanned the room trying to process what she’d said as well as fight from not making a comment back.  It was quite amusing.  Finally he blinked. 

“Okay.”

He pulled a file from his coat and tossed it onto the table, rapidly changing the subject.  Molly did all she could not to giggle at his uncomfortableness.

“I want you to calculate John’s ideal intake and mine to remain in the sweet spot for the whole evening.”

She opened the file marveling at the thoroughness of Sherlock. He’d even brought copies of birth certificate. 

“Light headed, good…”

She tightened her lips to keep from grinning as she picked up a chart of the Vitruvian Man with John’s head pasted over it. 

“Urinating in wardrobes, bad.”

“Mmmm…”

“When do you need this?”

“I can pick it up tonight.”

“I’m working tonight. Double.  Stop by after eleven.”

“Very well, thank you Molly.”

She shook her head, digging through the paperwork as he swept out of the lab. 

“Well, one can never be too thorough.”

* * *

 

 

He stopped by later that evening and she handed him the calculations.  He glanced at them, nodded, murmured a thank you and was off.  She didn’t think another thing about it until two night later when she was woken up by a text message. 

**Bloody gits couldn’t even make it past 9 –GL**

Molly frowned, still half asleep and not quite figuring out what Lestrade was talking about.  Then the date clicked and her frown deepened. 

 

**What do you mean?  Sherlock made me do the calculations.  They were perfect. –Mx**

**What kind of fool calculates a stag party?  I had to pull them out of the drunk tank thirty minutes ago! –GL**

 

Molly fell back on her bed.  Her calculations were correct, she went through them twice.  Someone must’ve messed with the amounts or added a variable.    It seemed John might have wanted the party to move along quicker.  Either that or Sherlock miscalculated John’s tolerance for alcohol.  She tried to go back to bed but a few minutes later her phone buzzed again. 

 

**Learn to say no to the git! –JW**

 

She blinked at his message, fully awake now but still not understanding what the hell this was about.

 

**John, go home, you’re drunk.- Mx**

**Yes I am. Molls you need to stop letting him run all over you! –JW**

**I’m not letting anyone run all over me.  Go home.  Remember meds. Sleep. –Mx**

**You’re too good for him Molls.  Remember that. –JW**

 

She wanted to turn off her phone.  Turn it off and toss it on the other side of the room so she could get some sleep.  But she was on call so that was right out. 

Just as she lay down again, her phone rang.  She snatched it from the nightstand, figuring it was the hospital because who else would actually call her? 

“Doctor Hooper.”  She answered, sitting up and turning on her light. 

“Your calculations were wrong.”

She pulled the phone away from her ear to look at the screen and confirm the person.  Sherlock’s number was on the screen.  Which was weird because she could count the number of times he’d actually phoned her.  He preferred to text.  She put the phone back to her ear, apparently missing some of the one sided conversation.

“…all wrong, I expected better of you Doctor Hooper.”

“I…my calculation were correct, I’ll have you know.  I double checked the calculations.”

“Sweet spot, Molly Hooper.  This is past the sweet spot and on to well and truly pissed.”

She was tired and it was late which is why she conceded the thought that were running unbidden through her mind.  She tried to keep her mouth shut and not say anything aloud.  But it was such a temptation. 

“Not my fault.”  She insisted.  “Someone tampered with the calculations.  Did you have shots?”

“I did not deviate from my….”  He paused for a moment and half hissed/ half slurred into the phone.  “John!”

“Pardon?”

“John went up to get the drinks a couple of times.  It was only after that when everything went…wobbly.”

She actually had to clamp a hand over her mouth to keep from giggling.  Tired as she was, she wouldn’t have missed this entertainment for the world.

“Sounds like shots.”

“You should’ve calculated for shots.”  He sounded indignant.  As if she should’ve known John was going to deviate from the plan.

“I calculated what you asked.  You should’ve deduced that John would deviate.”  She couldn’t help it, teasing a drunken Sherlock was just too much fun. 

“Ohhh, Molly.”  His voice dropped an octave and she felt that old familiar feeling in the center of her stomach.  That tone did such things to her libido… “I have a mind to come over there and set you straight.”

There were so many things she could say to that however, most of them would end up with him back in jail for a B & E because he tried to break into someone else’s flat thinking it was still hers. 

“Go home Sherlock.  You aren’t going to remember any of this conversation tomorrow morning.  Go home, take some aspirin, drink some water and go to sleep.”

“Molly Hooper.  You walk with angels.”

“Good night Sherlock.”

 

* * *

 

True to her prediction, when John and Sherlock next came to her lab for a case, John took her aside to apologize for texting her so late and his behavior.  Sherlock either didn’t remember anything that had taken place after he left the station house or was ignoring it.  Either way, Molly was fine not acknowledging it any more than she had to. 

 


	22. Chapter 22

Molly walked into her home, tired and looking forward to both a nap and a day off.  She hated working doubles anymore, but Mike had needed her to stay so stayed she had. 

She could hear William laughing in the kitchen and after taking off her coat and dropping her purse onto the nearest chair she headed towards that room. 

“Ea ore!  Ea!”

“Yes, yes, I do hear you.”  An unexpected voice answered from the kitchen.  Her stomach clenched and her steps quickened. 

In the kitchen, William was sitting in his high chair drinking from his sippy cup-  he’d decided he was quite finished with bottles- and eating fruit and dried cheerios.  Sitting at the table beside him with a cup of tea at her elbow and her eyes on her phone, was Anthea.  Anthea in a warm looking jumper and casual trousers. She glanced up as Molly entered the kitchen, her smile polite. 

“Good morning Doctor Hooper.  How was your evening?”

William turned around in his chair, his eyes lighting up as he spotted her.  “Mama!”

She smiled warmly, walking over to drop a kiss on his curls. 

“Morning darling.  Good morning Anthea, is everything all right?”

“We had hoped it would be set to rights by the time you returned.  Mr. Holmes discovered you had to work a double shift so allowances needed to be made.  Agent Harris was needed for a quick assignment.  Unfortunately, the assignment turned out to be a smidge longer than expected, apologies on that but it couldn’t be helped.  He was hesitant of sending another agent here as it seems young Mr. Hooper is particular in his company, so I offered to stay with him.”  She gave a knowing smirk as William shoved another piece of banana into his mouth.  “I am quite adept at handling the Holmes men so my resume is quite exemplary.”

Molly couldn’t hold back a short giggle.   “Well it seems as if William is quite taken with you.”

“He and I became fast friends last night, even after I insisted it was his bedtime.”  She plucked the whole grape he was about to shove in his mouth from his fingers, sliced it in half with the small knife sitting beside her tea cup and returned both halves back to him before his pout could become too pronounced.  He squealed in delight and shoved one half of the grape into his mouth.  “Besides, how often do I get the opportunity to boss around a Holmes?”

“I’m afraid it won’t be today either.  William is quite the taskmaster.”

“You look exhausted.  Why don’t you go lay down.  William and I are quite at our leisure at the moment.  It’s nice enough out that we might even venture to the back yard after breakfast and play.”

William seemed to approve of this idea.  “Out!  Out Ea, out!”

“After breakfast sir,”  she tapped a nail on his tray.  “Eat up.”

William almost choked in his attempt to finish.  Anthea fixed him with a look and his movements slowed.  Molly snickered. 

“I might just keep you here.”

The woman’s lips curled upward.  “Mr. Holmes would be helpless without me.”

“Are you quite sure you’re alright with this arrangement, you couldn’t have had a restful evening if you spent the night and I’m sure Mycroft will have the devil of a time without you.”

“Not at all, I was quite comfortable.  And I insist.  Provisions have already been made, Mr. Holmes is quite prepared to function without my services today, his insistence.  I always have my phone in case he suddenly can’t find his biscuits.  Have a lay in, we’ll be quite well.”

She felt guilty, but exhaustion was quickly winning.  Nodding, she kissed William’s forehead and went off to bed. 

 

* * *

 

Molly woke up to the sun shining off the opposite wall and the sound of excited peals of laughter in the back garden.    She checked her phone to see she’d slept for almost five hours.   She got up, showered and changed her clothes and walked downstairs.  Fixing a cup of tea, she filled two mugs and walked out to the back.  William was in his swing, his ever present stuffed dog in one hand laughing in delight as Anthea pushed him. 

“Up!  Up Ea, up!”  he screeched in delight as Anthea pushed just a bit harder and the swing went just a bit higher. 

“I’ve brought some tea.”  Molly called out as she crossed the yard.  The woman gave her a bright smile. 

“Oh bless.”  She took the mug and took as a sip, sighing in delight as the swing slowed down a little.  “We had lunch earlier and I promised him we could go back out for a bit afterwards.  I won’t have to pop to the gym tonight, this little one had given me more than enough exercise.”

“I warned you he was a taskmaster.”

“Up ea, up!”  William squealed again.

“I got this.”  Molly walked behind the swing and pushed.  The swing went higher and William squealed with laughter again.  Anthea sipped at her mug and shook her head as she watched the toddler. 

“I admire you Doctor Hooper.  Even with Agent Morris here to assist, you do so much.  Even I am allowed to go home and relax every so often.” 

“I wouldn’t ever give it up.  William is my life and I am so glad I was allowed the opportunity to have him.”

Anthea watched the toddler fondly, his legs kicking in the swing, his jacket zipped and his dark hair, growing out again after his first haircut, moving in the wind.  His blue green eye were bright in a way Anthea had only seen on his sire when he was in the middle of a case.  She hedged out a question.

“Are you ever going to tell him father that you took him up on his offer?”

Molly shrugged, one hand holding the mug the other pushing William.  “Both Dana and Mycroft have asked me that question.  William is mine.  He was given to me by rights I’ll never understand nor will I ever ask because honestly, I’m a little afraid of the answer.   At this time, no.  Sherlock is not in the correct mindset to comprehend an offspring.  Later in life, I might consider letting him know.  What I won’t do, however, is deny William’s knowledge of him.  Not that I’m sure Mycroft would ever allow that.  William is a Holmes no matter what his last name is, and I’ll not deny him that.”

“Good answer.  For what it’s worth, I think you’re absolutely right.  The younger Holmes brother is in no way prepared for any part of fatherhood.”

They stood out there watching William swing for a bit more before Molly slowed the swing.  Immediately William’s lower lip jutted out and Anthea grinned. 

“Not that anyone couldn’t tell who his father is with that look.”

Molly gave her a confirming look before turning her attention back to William. 

“Nap now.”

“Noooo…”  His whine was interrupted by a yawn and he didn’t protest when she pulled him from the swing one handed. 

“You say no and yet you’re yawning and ready for one.  Say goodnight to Anthea.”

One hand clenched and unclenched in a toddler’s wave and his lips pursed.  “iss, Ea.”

“He wants a kiss.”

“Oh.”  She looked a little surprised as they walked into the house.  Molly handed him over to Anthea for a moment as she pulled off his jacket and he plopped a loud smack on her cheek. 

“Ni, Ni Ea.”

“Have a good nap, sir.”  She put the mug up in the sink.  “I should head back, if you’re all right.”

“I’m fine.  Thank you for everything Anthea.”

“Of course.”  She looked at William who was laying his head on Molly’s shoulder watching her.  “He really is such a good boy.”

She was texting a ride when Molly walked upstairs with William.  She put him on his changing table and changed his nappy.  William held his stuffed dog by his face while Molly changed him and put on nee bottoms.  Picking him up, she buried her face in his curls for just a moment, taking a deep breath of baby.  She put him in his crib and he laid right down, dog curled in one hand, his finger in his mouth.

“Night little man.”  She whispered before backing out of the room and returning downstairs.  Anthea was gone.  She walked back into the kitchen and began cleaning up. 

 

* * *

 

The evening was spent playing with William and making dinner for them both.   He was in his chair eating dinner when her phone dinged signaling a text message.  William’s eyes lit up and he looked towards her in an almost Pavlovian response. 

“No.  Eat your carrots.”  She said as she pulled out her phone. 

 

**Needed urgently at Baker St.- SH**

 

“Mimi?”  William asked, mouth full of carrot pieces.

“No, it’s not Mycroft.”  She answered absently as she returned his text.

 

**Can’t.  In the middle of something.  What do you need?-Mx**

 

“NaNa?”  he asked. 

“Not Dana.”  Her phone beeped again.

 

**What in the devil can be more important?-SH**

**Oh. Oh!  Apologies. I sometimes forget.-SH**

**Not important.-SH**

 

Molly studied the messages, not sure if she should be touched or insulted that he randomly forgot she was supposedly engaged.  Truth be told, sometimes she forgot she was engaged.  She and Tom still went out for dates, but they were more once every other week now to give the appearance of a strained relationship.    She sent a message back.

 

**Can’t leave, but can text.  What’s wrong?-Mx**

 

The return message came back only moments later, making her think that he had his phone right next to him. 

**You should be enjoying time with your fiancé rather than answering at my beck and call.- SH**

**I’ve told you before, I will always be there should you need me.- Hx**

**And I appreciate that, more than you’ll ever know.  Enjoy your evening Molly Hooper-SH**

 

“Ea?”  William asked, before picking up a couple of pieces of chopped up chicken and eating them.  Molly looked up at him. 

“No, not Anthea.  It’s Mummy’s friend Sherlock.”

He frowned and she could almost see his brain trying to work out who this new name was and how it might affect him.  His mouth working around trying to say the name soundlessly and she waited curiously to see what he’d do with this new information.  Finally his face cleared and he looked at her. 

“Da.”

Molly startled, clearly not expecting that word to come out of her son’s mouth ever.  She frowned and he grinned, obviously pleased he got such a reaction out of his mother.  He picked up another piece of chicken from his tray and waved it around for a bit before putting it into his mouth. 

“Da.”  He repeated.  Molly sighed heavily. 

“You aren’t wrong,”  she muttered.  “But you are getting too damn clever for your own good, young William.”

 

* * *

 

Dana finally returned late that evening.  Molly was sitting on the settee watching telly with a glass of wine.  William had but put to bed earlier that evening and she’d spent most of the night contemplating her son’s observation and what it meant for the future.  She looked up as the woman entered the house and shut the door behind her. 

“Any more of that?”  She asked, nodding towards the glass. 

“In the fridge.  You hungry?”

“Starved.”  Came the reply.  Molly got up and walked into the kitchen.  Dana was already rummaging through the fridge in search of both the wine and something to eat. 

“Bad?”

“Frustrating.”  She answered, pulling out some leftover roast and potatoes.  She popped it into the oven and taking the empty glass Molly handed her, filled it with the red from the fridge.  She took a long drink and sighed.  “Horrid.  Don’t want to talk about it.  How was today?  Sorry about not telling you, I didn’t expect it to take that long.”

“It’s fine, apparently Will loves Anthea.”

The microwave dinged and Dana pulled out the plate, plucked a fork form the drainer and dug in. 

“So, it’s been a quiet evening?”

“Pretty much,”  Molly watched the woman as she ate.  “Oh, Will did learn a new word.”

“Really?  What?”

She smirked.  “Da.”

Dana choked on a potato.  “Please tell me you weren’t talking to Mycroft.”

“Nope.”  She popped the p.  “I believe the exact word that came from my lips were: Mummy’s friend Sherlock.”

Dana began laughing. 


	23. Chapter 23

“William David Algernon Hooper you leave Toby alone this instant!”

Molly stopped, her fingers freezing as they tightened clasp on her necklace.  She listened quietly, hearing William’s delighted giggle followed by Dana’s firm voice. 

“If Toby scratches you, you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.”

The long resigned meow of her beloved cat rang out and she relaxed turning her attention back to her outfit.  Toby sounded resigned, not annoyed which meant she didn’t have to go out there at this moment and intervene.   The meow grew louder as she slid on her shoes and a moment later, Toby walked into her room.  He stopped just inside of the door, looked up at her and meowed. 

“You too?”  she asked.  He took that as permission to wind his way between her legs, rubbing against her before hopping onto her bed and making himself comfortable.  The better that William had gotten at walking and even running, the more Toby stayed in her room where it was safe.  William wasn’t allowed so Toby had a place to keep from being accosted by toddler hands. 

She stroked between his ears and he moved his head just enough to accommodate her but not move from his spot. 

“My poor boy, can’t even lord around the house anymore without being violated, can you?” 

Toby yawned widely and curled back into a ball.  Giving him one last scratch, she left her room, leaving the door open just enough that he could get out of the room later.  She walked downstairs where William was wondering around the sitting room yelling Toby’s name.

“Oby!  Oby!  Here!” 

“Sorry little one, Toby needs a time out.”  She told him.  “You’re going to have to make do with some other distraction.”

William turned around at her voice and stopped, his blue eyes narrowing as he took in her yellow dress. 

“Go?”  he asked suspiciously.   Crossing the sitting room, she scooped him up into her arms. 

“We talked about this, Mummy’s friends John and Mary are getting married today.  I have to go.”

“Go?”  he asked again, patting to his chest.  Smiling she shook her head. 

“No my darling, you are staying here with Dana.  You’ll have so much more fun here than a stuffy old wedding with boring speeches and boring food.”

William pouted, as he always did when he wanted his way.  She dropped a kiss on his forehead and put him down. 

“I go.”  He insisted. 

“I’m sorry love, but I promise if you’re good for Dana tonight, I’ll take you to the park tomorrow.”

His eyes lit up at the prospect of visiting the park down the lane that had the small lake where he could watch the ducks.  His gaze went to the door and then returned back to her.  She knew he was waiting to see if there would be a knock on the door. 

“I have to go.  I love you.”

He clutched onto her leg, giving it a hug. 

“Bye Bye Ma.” 

“Have fun,”  Dana said giving her a knowing look.  Molly rolled her eyes as she picked up her clutch and wrap and slipped out the door.  Tom was waiting at the bottom of her walk.    
“Have you managed to escape?”  he teased as she reached him.  She reached up and straightened his tie and slid her hands down the lapels of his suit coat before getting into the taxi he’d acquired.    
“Without minimal fuss too.” 

He slid in after her and shut the door.  Within moments they were off towards the church. 

“Are you ready for this?”

She shrugged, “I know John, I barely know Mary but she seems nice.  It’ll be everything I told Will it would be; a lovely ceremony followed by a lovelier reception.”

“Did you really tell Will that?”

She smiled.  “I told him it was going to a rubbish time and he’d have much more fun at home with Dana.  And then I promised to take him to the park tomorrow if he was good.”

Tom laughed. 

 

* * *

 

It was horrible.   She felt horrible.

The ceremony had been lovely.  A smallish affair, mostly John’s family and some of Mary’s and their joint friends.  No, the rubbish part had been all her.  Her first sight of Sherlock walking down the aisle in the full tux complete with top hat, with the brunette in lavender on his arm sent up a wave a jealousy she honestly had not been expecting.  No matter what she tried, she couldn’t get rid of it. 

Tom was in the usual adorable dorky form he usually was when out in public with her, which made her feel even worse.  Like she was using this poor man while her jealousy, she felt, was bloody apparent all over her face.  She tried to squash it down, smile for the bloody photographer and make it look as if she were enjoying herself.  Tom was a dear, his eyes constantly searching for the man who kept taking candid shots of the guests.  Her mouth hurt from so much fake smiling she did.

 

It got even worse during the reception when Sherlock began what started as the best man speech and dissolved into a deduction session regarding a recent murder he and John hadn’t solved.  He began involving the members of the reception, asking questions, dazzling everyone and obviously stalling when Tom spoke up.  In his persona as her dorky fiancé, he was perfect.  So perfect that in her embarrassment, she forgot he was playing a part and stabbed him with her fork to make him sit down.  On her other side, Greg choked back a surprised laugh at Tom’s hissed “ow!” 

Suddenly the speech was wrapped up in less than three words and Sherlock ran out of the room.  John followed seconds later and after a moment Mary got up from the head table and followed the two men.  The reception was immediately a washed with conversation regarding the oddest speech ever. 

 

* * *

 

“I am so sorry.” 

She was near tears in the alcove.  After dinner they’d all moved towards the reception hall and she’d pulled Tom off into a small alcove.  She felt horrible, had all through dinner but she couldn’t say anything to him. 

He looked at his hand, three small prong holes still imprinted in his skin, and grinned. 

“I should tell the boss.  He should hire you, you’re vicious with a fork.”

“Oh God,” she moaned softly, her hands covering her face.  Looking around, he wrapped an arm around her waist and moved them so it looked like they were have a more intimate conversation. 

“I’m teasing.  It’s fine.  It startled me, yeah, but I’ve been stabbed by much worse over the years.  I just didn’t know you had it in you.   I’m beginning to think this quiet little harmless persona you have going on is just a front.”

“Stop.”  She couldn’t help but laugh.  Her hand came up and rested against his suit coat, her forehead following. 

“You still love him, don’t you?”  Tom’s voice was quiet, near her ear. 

“I can’t help it.  I tried to be happy, to squish it down.  Nothing works.  I feel like the worst person in the world.”

“Don’t.  Don’t beat yourself up this way.  You can’t help who you fall for.”

“Somedays I wish I could.”  She took a deep breath and lifted her head up, a smile on her lips.  “How do you do it?”

The grin he gave her was almost like something out of 007.  “I’m a secret agent, I’m trained not to fall in love.”

“And I’m afraid that exactly why I would be useless to your boss.”

Tom took her hands and bent his head to drop a soft kiss on her lips.  “It’s not a weakness Molly.  Never think it is.”

Wrapping an arm around her shoulder, he turned her back around and led her towards the reception hall.  Her head was leaning against his shoulder so she didn’t see Sherlock catch sight of the couple, his eyes following them as they walked into the reception hall.

But Tom noticed. 

 

* * *

 

He played like an angel.  She knew he played the violin, had heard John complain about him playing it at all hours of the night and keeping him awake, but she’d never heard him play. 

Standing on stage in the spotlight, violin tucked under his chin as he played an original piece he’d composed for John and Mary’s wedding, bathed in the white glow of the lights, Molly could only stand there and watch him in raptures.  He was beautiful, ethereal, a marble statue come to life.

Stone, cold and unattainable.

The last note of the waltz faded and Molly felt cold.  She listened to his vow to Mary and John, his stumble as she realized he’d deduced something nobody else was supposed to know yet; Mary was pregnant?, and stepped down as the house music began. 

Tom came over, suit jacket unbuttoned and took her hand. 

“Loosen up, Molly.  Come on, let’s dance.”

Grinning she nodded and let him pull her out onto the dance floor, determined to lose her melancholy mood on the dance floor. 

She caught a brief sight of him for a moment, standing solitary on the dance floor before walking away.  Her eyes following him for a moment, trying to decide if she should follow and ask after him.  But Tom tugged at her hand and she turned back, the moment forgotten under his ridiculous dance moves.  Laughing, she lost herself again in the music.

Too much dancing and too much champagne later, Tom escorted Molly back to her house, unlocking her door for her and kissing her cheek before depositing her into the capable hands of Dana. 

Dana helped her up the stairs and left her to undress and stumble into bed.  It wasn’t until she was on the cusp of sleep that she realized Sherlock hadn’t been in the party that wished John and Mary a goodbye as they left.

 


	24. Chapter 24

Her engagement was officially over. 

Not that they let anyone know.  Rather, Tom picked her up one last time for lunch and took her to her favorite restaurant and told her of his next mission-what he could- while they ate.

“Sorry darling,” he said, his blue eyes twinkling mischievously.  “It never would have worked out, you’re just too enamored with him.”

She knew he was teasing but for a moment, her heart lurched.  “I’m sorry if I ever made you feel uncomfortable.”

He reached over, clasping her hand.  “Molly, don’t.  You never made me feel uncomfortable.  In fact, I can say this has been one of the most pleasurable missions I’ve ever taken.  I’m almost sorry to go back into the field.  Darling, you are an amazing woman; a doctor, a mum, an assistant for the most prominent and only Consulting Detective London has.  Don’t let him fool you Molly, he needs you much more than he’ll ever admit.  Trust me, I’m a spy, it’s my job to know these things.”  He lifted her hand to his lips and pressed his lips to it.  “I don’t know all the particulars but, as a man, I can figure some out.  No man would ever do what he did for you for no reason.”

He dropped her off at the front of her house with one final kiss and a smile. 

“If there were anyone I would’ve like to fall in love with for real, Molly, it would be you.  You are surprisingly easy to fall in love with.”

And then he was gone.  Out of her life as mysteriously as he’d arrived. 

 

* * *

 

William knew something had changed.  But again, William was much more observant than people gave him credit for.  He was happier, stopped glaring at the door when the bell rang or a knock came.  Stopped watching her when she left for work. 

He was growing up so fast, Molly thought one day while she sat on a bench at the park near their house watching him play.  Even at fourteen months, he was so much more advanced than children his age.  She watched him running around the slides as other toddlers walked or even sat in the sandbox and played with the toys in it.   He was looking at everything; people, pets, trees, dirt.  Everything was new and exciting and therefore of interest to him.  Briefly she wondered if this is what it was like for Mrs. Holmes, having to raise two little boys so much more advanced than all the other children their age.

“Mind if I sit with you?”

Blinking out of her thoughts, she looked over surprised to see Mary standing beside the bench, holding two takeaway cups. 

“Oh.  Sure.”  She moved her bag to make room for Mary.  “When did you get back?”

“A day ago.”  She sighed as she took the seat, then handed Molly one of the cups.  “I already miss it.  Not having to worry about the clinic or anything expect whether or not we were going to get dressed that day.”

Molly grinned, pulling the lid form the cup and took a sniff of the cup.  Coffee; hazelnut, light, four sugars.  She took a sip and let out a happy sigh. 

“Thank you.  How did you know?”

Mary winked at her.  “I asked.  It’s surprising what Sherlock will let slip when he’s elbow deep in research.  He just spits out these random nuggets of information without really knowing he’s doing it.  But I have to be careful when to ask because he does catch on quick.”

Molly took another sip.  She didn’t even know that Sherlock knew how she took her coffee.  But she shouldn’t have been surprised.

“Not that I’m happy to see you, I am,” she rushed to reassure the woman.  “but…”

“I missed you.  Thought I’d stop by for coffee and a chat.  It was a nice day so I figured I’d try the park first before stopping by your house.”  She looked around the park.  “I don’t see Dana around.”

“Oh,” Molly thought fast, scanning the playground for William.  He was currently by the slide, on his butt, laughing as someone’s dog licked his face.  “I thought I’d bring the baby down for some air, let Dana have a rest.”

Mary gave her a look that told her she didn’t believe a word Molly said.  “Molly stop.  You know I’m pregnant, right?”

“Yeah, congratulations.”

“Thank you.  I wanted to know.”  She took a deep breath.  “How terrifying was it?”

Molly’s eyes widened.  “Pardon?”

“The actual pregnancy.  The birth.  Being responsible for another human being, someone so helpless that you have no choice but dedicate a large portion of your life to their protection.”

“I…I don’t…”

“Can we just skip this part?  It’s obvious that that little boy,” she pointed to exactly where William was still playing with the dog.  “Is not Dana’s.  I’m sorry Molly, but if that boy is not a Holmes, I’ll eat my scarf.  What I want to know is when it happened?  Because he was gone for almost two years, that boy is maybe a year old, actually I’m guessing sixteen months since the first time I came to your house it was his birthday.  Did you meet him somewhere?  I didn’t even think he thought like that, I mean I guess he must’ve, but…”

“I didn’t…that is,” she sighed.  “I’ve never slept with him.”

“Oh…OH!”  Mary’s eyes widened as the pieces clicked. 

“You can’t say anything,” Molly said suddenly desperate.  All this time, she couldn’t be undone by a cast off comment during a case or a night in with John.  Because if John knew, it was almost a guarantee that Sherlock would soon know.  “You can’t say anything to anyone.  Not Sherlock, not John.  Please!”

Mary took her hand, her eyes sympathetic.  “Molly, of course I would never say anything.  Your secret is safe with me.  But why don’t you want him to know?”

Molly shook her head.  “He is not in the right mindset to be a father.  I don’t want him to feel as if he owes me anything.”

“So is Dana really a college friend, or…”

“She’s his nanny.  And bodyguard.”

“So Mycroft Holmes…”

“He knows.”  Molly glanced back towards where her son was.  He looked over towards her, his body stopping when he noticed the new person sitting with her.  He pushed to his feet and began walking towards them.  Because William Hooper couldn’t not solve a mystery.  “He’s the one who set me up with everything.  He actually is the most doting of Uncles.  Will adores him.”

“Will?”  Mary asked.  “Short for William?”

Molly nodded, turning her attention towards the toddler heading towards them. 

“Hello darling, did you have fun playing with the puppy?”

William gave her a wide grin.  A grin that was all his father.  His blue green eyes slid over to Mary. 

“Dat?”

“This is mummy’s friend Mary?  Remember?  The lady whose wedding Mummy went to.”

He looked to her and Mary had the feeling that he was deducing her in his own toddler way.   Finally he blinked and looked back to his mother. 

“Up.”

She scooped him up and placed him on her lap.  He went back to studying her.  Mary gave him a smile and held out her hand. 

“Hello William, it’s very nice to meet you.”

Those eyes blinked again and he reached for her hand.  “Ma-ye?”

“Mary, very good.”  Molly said.  He studied her longer, his hand still wrapped around her finger.  She glanced up at Molly. 

“Is he doing what I think he’s doing?”

Molly nodded.  William looked back at his mother.    
“Ohn?”

Mary blinked in surprise and Molly smiled. 

“Very good.  Yes, Mary and John.”

The grin returned and he looked back at Mary. 

“Hi”

Mary’s smiled widely and shook his hand.

“Hello.”

His brow furrowed for a moment and suddenly his eyes lit up.

“Da!”

Again, Mary’s startled eyes looked up at Molly who merely sighed. 

“Once again, one plus one and he goes straight to five. Not all of Mummy’s friends know each other.”  She told him as he looked back to her for confirmation.  His face fell slightly.  Mary grinned. 

“But in this case…”  she hedged. 

“But in this case…”  Molly agreed.  William’s face lit up again at the confirmation. 

“He knows?”

“We’re still up in the air on that.”  Molly said as William let go of Mary’s hand and wriggled off of Molly’s lap. 

“Ome!”  he insisted.  Molly stood up and dumped her empty cup into the rubbish bin.  Mary stood up after her as Molly scooped William up in her arms. 

“Oh, I have to hear this story.”

“Come on back to the house.  It’s time for Will’s nap, you and I can have a cuppa and talk after I put him down.


	25. Chapter 25

Summer was coming along and Dana wanted to take William on holiday.  Just for a couple of days, just to the lakes where he could root through river banks and sandy beaches discovering all sorts of new things to his heart’s content.  The idea of him being away from her for longer than overnight scared her.  She discussed it with Mycroft when he came over the next evening to visit.  He listen to her while William sat by his feet playing with a set of blocks and occasionally handing one to Mycroft to hold.  There was something disconcerting about seeing the actual British government sitting in her sitting room holding several large brightly colored blocks.   It could ruin his reputation of being a heartless bastard if anyone saw him like this.   Then again, it would ruin his reputation of being a heartless bastard should anyone know he came to her house on the regular to see William.

“I can send another person with Dana should you wish.”  he answered after listening to her concerns.  She shook her head. 

“Thank you, no.  I have no doubt that Dana is more than capable to protect William should the need arise.  I know she’s well trained and has been teaching him since he was able to walk code words for emergencies.  I have never doubted her ability to protect William with her life.  This is more of a maternal thing.  Is he old enough to go on holiday?  More importantly, how will I survive four days without him?”

“Molly, I assure you, you’ll survive well enough.  You might even get a lie in.  Algernon is not like other children, you accepted this from the beginning and understood that the time would come when he was going to need more advanced training.”

“At maybe five, Mycroft, not at a year and a half!”

“Molly, It’s holiday.  If he’s anything like his father, he’ll come back with a pocket full of rocks, a scraped knee and a turtle.”  He handed the block back to William.  “As for what how you’ll survive, well, Sherlock has been missing in action for a bit.  I’m sure he’ll turn up any day now.  That should keep you plenty busy.”

William looked up from his building at Mycroft, a happy grin on his face.

“Da!”  he announced.

Mycroft looked down at him stunned and then towards Molly, his eyes showing only a hint of hesitation  

“Did he?”

“Yes.  It’s a new development.”

“But…”  he looked at William.  “I’m Mycroft Algernon, not da.”

The toddler looked at him as if he was speaking nonsense.  “Myc.”  He insisted firmly, as if insisting he understood who Mycroft was.  Mycroft looked up at Molly again. 

“Think about what you said.”

“We were discussing your holiday and Sherlock…”

“Da!”

Molly bit back a snicker at Mycroft’s startled contance.  He looked back again at Molly. 

“Did you…”

“Nope.  That is all William.  I merely said his name once and he came upon it himself.”

Mycroft went back to studying William who handed him another block. 

“Fascinating.”  He murmured.

 

* * *

 

The next weekend Dana took William off to the lakes with promises of pictures and plenty of stories when they returned.  Molly waved them off, feeling suddenly a little more empty than she had.  Even Toby coming out of his usual hiding places and winding his way around her legs didn’t do much in the way of cheering her up.  He half considered calling Mary for a lunch date but dismissed the idea.  Mary was busy with her own stuff, it was only four days.  How much trouble could he get into in four days.

 

* * *

 

Two days in and it wasn’t her son she had to worry about, it was his father.  Sherlock Holmes had reappeared, just like Mycroft had predicted.  However, he couldn’t have predicted the way he reappeared. 

She was in the office finishing out her shift when she heard the uproar outside in the hallway.  She took a step towards the door when the double doors to the lab swung open and John stormed in manhandling a stumbling and belligerent Sherlock Holmes.  Mary came in after with another scruffy looking guy who was holding his arm and moaning. 

“Wha…”  Her mind was reeling.  Mary gave her a sympathetic look from across the room. 

“Molly,”  She could hear the barely controlled anger in John’s voice.  “I’m very sorry to do this to you but Sherlock needs to pee in a cup.”

She blinked slowly, not quite understanding what John was talking about.  Then she looked at Sherlock, really looked at him.  Dirty jeans, unshaven, scruffy thermal and a hoodie over it.  He looked unwashed and ragged, his face pale and shallow, dark circles under his very glassy eyes.

She grabbed a specimen cup from the counter and handed it to John.  He gave a terse “thank you” before manhandling Sherlock back out the door and towards the closest loo.  She looked over at Mary. 

“Sorry about this.”  She said.  “Do you have any wraps?  My friend here seems to have sprained his arm.”

“Broken, it is!”  the guy whined.  Still in a daze, she pointed towards the cabinet by the supply closet. 

“Thanks.”

“Where did you find him?”

“Funny story that,”  Mary opened the cabinet and gathered supplies.  “We went to pick up one of our neighbor’s sons at an abandoned building where all the drug addicts hang out.  Found the kid and returned him home safe, but John found Sherlock there too.”

“And him?”  Molly pointed at the guy. 

“Wasn’t hurting no one.”  He insisted, squawking when Mary popped his shoulder back into place and begin to wrap it. 

“Oh hush, it’s not even that serious.  I’d be more worried about your nose.”

She began gathering all the supplies she’d need to test for narcotic in the system, her mind still flying.  Drugs.  She knew he was a recovering addict, no matter what he said, had first met him right after he’d gotten out of rehab, so she’d never seen the high Sherlock, just the after effects of rehab.  He’d recovered so quickly that honestly she’d forgotten what he looked like sick. 

The doors flew open again and they returned. 

“Stay right there.  Don’t move.”  John warned before handing the specimen to Molly.  She gave him a look and he nodded. 

“Made him keep the door open.”

A scoff came from Sherlock which was quickly quieted when John turned to give him a deadly glare.    Molly nodded and set to work preparing the tests. 

The room was silent while she worked save for the occasional sniff from Sherlock or the occasional soft moan for the other guy. 

She couldn’t believe it.  She’d known that he wasn’t in the right head space to be a father, to even know he was one, but now.  Even if she had been thinking of one day introducing William to Sherlock or even telling Sherlock that she’d taken him up on his offer, there was no way in hell she was going to do it while he was using again.  Did this mean that William had the gene that would make him susceptible to drugs and alcohol?  Was this something she would have to worry about?  That his mind would be so bored as he grew older that he would try to find something to alleviate that boredom? 

The test beeped and she went over to the spectrometer to get the results.  She knew even when she pulled the print out that it was bad but she hadn’t known how bad.  How he was moving around with so much of a deadly cocktail running through his veins…she didn’t know how he was alive.

“Well?  Is he clean?”  John asked.  She turned around slowly, the printout still in her hand, looking at John and then Sherlock.  The taller man was leaning against one of the metal counters, his eyes still glassy, his expression vacant.  A rage of fury welled in her so hot and so strong.  This was the father of her child.  It didn’t matter how it happened, it happened.  The result of that was currently at the lakes with Dana probably running through the water and the sand picking up everything he could find. 

The thought of her son fueled her rage even further. 

“Is he clean?”  she spat.  Her body moved of its own accord.  Two steps and her right hand lashed out, catching his cheek with enough force to move his head.  The crack of flesh hitting flesh was loud in the quiet room.  She slapped him again, just to get that dazed look off of his face.   He didn’t blink.  Her left hand came out, every bit of fury and anger forced into that final slap.  His head rocked back and he  blinked, his own hand reaching up to massage his jaw. 

“How dare you throw away the beautiful gifts you were born with,”  she spat out her voice shaking in anger.  “How dare you betray the love of your friends.  Say you’re sorry!”

He worked his jaw, his hand still rubbing his face.  His eyes finally met hers. 

“I’m sorry your engagement’s over, though I’m fairly grateful for the lack of a ring.”

She had to fight the urge to smack him one last time.

“Stop it.”  She hissed.  “Just stop it.”

His phone sounded and he pulled it out of his pocket, scrolling through it.  Blood was pounding in her ears, her body still vibrated with anger.  She could hear people talking but the voices were muffled.  She watched him whirl around, clearly excited about something.  John followed after him, his mouth moving as they both hurried out of the lab, the double doors closing shut behind them. 

As if the sound of the doors were a catalyst for her, all anger drained suddenly from her body leaving her drained and shaking. 

“What about us?”  the strange man suddenly asked, breaking the silence in the lab.  She whirled on him, her eye burning hot and red, pointing a finger towards the door.

“Get out!”  she shouted.  The stranger looked at her and then to Mary before sloughing out the door, the double doors clicking shut behind him.  She clenched her hands into fists, willing herself to calm down.  She was a professional, damn it,  she was not about to cry in the middle of her lab. 

“Molly?” 

Molly blinked, feeling her eyes burn with unshed tears.  Mary still stood by the table, watching her sympathetically. 

Molly burst into tears. 

Mary hurried to her, gathering her into her arms and holding her while she sobbed, stroking her back. 

“Oh my poor dear, let it out.”  She hummed.   “It’ll all be fine, you’ll see.”

 

* * *

 

Two days later, Dana and William returned home.  William had pockets full of rocks and bits of grass and long dried up flowering weeds that he presented to Molly with a toothy grin and bright eyes.  Dropping to her knees, she took the weeds and gathering him up in a tight hug.  He allowed her for a bit, even giving her a squeeze back before wriggling from her grasp and running after Toby, who’d wandered into the sitting room not knowing the small human terror had returned. 

Dana gave her an odd look. 

“It was only four days.  Is everything okay?”

Molly remained on her knees, looking at the dying weeds lying in her hand. Things that her son had picked with the express intent at some point or another to give them to her because he thought it would make her happy.  She climbed to her feet. 

“It’s been a really bad four days.”  Was all she said.


	26. Chapter 26

It took a day of sweet behavior combined with her missing him  before her son was back at fond exasperation in her thoughts.  All it took was one brilliant idea of his to make mud in the back garden.  And of course him tracking it in and out of her kitchen as he got the water to make the mud. 

Dana was livid and he put up a fight as she wrestled his wet, muddy body into the bath while Molly scrubbed both wet and dry mud off of the kitchen floor.  From the ruckus coming from the bath she wasn’t sure who was winning the battle.  Sometime later, William came down the stairs in pajamas and a dressing gown, stomped across the main room, climbed up onto the settee and pouted, his arms crossed over his small chest and his legs splayed across the cushions.

Dana walked into the kitchen as Molly was finishing up, looking exhausted and a little damp. 

“I should’ve cleaned the kitchen,”  she said, flopping down into one of the kitchen chairs. 

“Who won?”

“I think it was a tie.  We both had a bath.  Mine was just with clothing on.”

She peeked into the sitting room where William was still on the couch pouting furiously.  She couldn’t help the smile that slid across her face. 

“How is it that he has never met his dad yet he is able to mimic him so completely?”  she asked softly.  Dana stood up and walked to where Molly was watching the toddler. 

“He’s an annoying little monster somedays.  Does he resemble his Dad all that much?”  she asked.  Molly nodded her head towards the toddler. 

“That is Sherlock Holmes when he’s cranky.  Every inch of him right now is a smaller mirror copy of his father, right down to the dressing gown.”

 

* * *

 

The tantrum lasted all afternoon and into the evening as Molly struggled to get him into bed.  He cried and held onto her as she tried to put him in his crib, not even stopping when she placed his stuffed dog into the crib next to him. 

“Darling, mummy has to go to work.”  She cajoled.  “Please go to sleep.” 

He only stood in his crib and cried until, sighing, she pulled him out and moved to a rocking chair she had put in his room when he was born.  She settled him onto her lap and rocked back and forth, his head against her chest, two fingers in his mouth and his dog clutched in his other hand.  His cries tapered off and he lay against her as she hummed and rocked, an occasional huff or hitched sigh coming from him. 

Dana peeked her head into the bedroom, looking at the two.  William was now sound asleep against Molly’s chest, legs splayed across her lap, his entire body limp against hers.  She looked up at Dana’s inquiring look, not halting her humming or rocking. 

“You’re going to be late.”  Dana whispered as she walked in.  

“It’s fine.  Wilson owes me anyway, he can stick around for an extra fifteen.”

She nodded towards the sleeping boy.  “You want me to take him?”

Molly shook her head, wrapping her arms tight around him and adjusting his sleeping body so she could climb to her feet.  He let out a sigh but didn’t move. 

“Somedays I think time is just passing me by too fast when it comes to him,”  she said as she crossed the room.  Gently, she placed him into his crib.  He hefted another sleepy sigh and curled around his stuffed dog as she placed a light blanket over him.  “I forget he’s only still a baby and I’m missing so much time with him.”  Reaching over the crib, she dropped a kiss on his temple before lifting the rails.

“Molly, you’re doing the best you can.  Don’t think you’re not a great mum, because you are.  And William loves you terribly.”

Molly smiled at Dana.  “Thanks Dana.  Now, I’d better shove off to work.  Wilson may not mind it but doesn’t mean he’s going to be happy about it.”

 

* * *

 

She made it to work only ten minutes later and as predicted, Wilson didn’t complain too much about it but was off before she’d even hung up her bag.

An hour into her shift her cell phone rang.  Pulling it from her pocket, she glanced at the caller ID, frowning when she noticed John’s name come up.

“Hello?  Are you two coming down or something?”

“Molly?  First, I don’t want you to worry.”

Her heart leapt into her throat at his words.  In the background she could hear Mary’s voice telling John that she was bound to worry now.  There was a scuffle and suddenly Mary’s voice was on the line.

“Molls?  It’s Mary.  Sherlock’s been shot.”

Her legs refused to hold her up.  She fell onto the stool set up by one of the worktables, her free hand gripping said table.  Her heart was pounding and she was cold. 

“It’s fine, he’s fine.  Well, he wasn’t fine there for a while, almost died on the table but he’s fine now.”

This conversation wasn’t getting any better.  She could feel the hysteria bubbling in her chest, could feel her eyes getting hot with unshed tears. In the background she could hear John telling Mary that she was doing a bang up job. 

“Is he okay?”  she heard her voice catch and suddenly Mary’s voice became concerned. 

“Are you in the lab?  I’m coming down luv.  We’re here, John can stay with Sherlock until I get back, let us know if there’s any change.”

“Can’t if you take my mobile.”  She heard John said and then Mary curse. 

“Shit.  I’ll ring you right back Moll.”  The call was disconnected and Molly drew a gasping breath.  They were here, at Bart’s, which meant she was able to visit him but she didn’t know where he was, what had happened.  Mary had said he’d died on the table.  Was it bad enough that he’d needed surgery?  Did Mycroft know and if so, why hadn’t he at least texted her?

Her phone rang again and she only clutched onto it, like a lifeline yet terrified to answer it.  If she didn’t answer it then everything was fine, right?  As long as she didn’t know, then Sherlock was fine.  He was alive and out of harm’s way and merely sitting in a hospital bed somewhere above her, complaining about the meals and generally being a pain in the arse.  If she never answered her mobile, then nobody could tell her that there was a clot that worked itself loose and had lodged in his heart, that there were complications to the surgery and he’d suffered a relapse and had gone into a coma.   Mike wouldn’t be as heartless to force her to perform the autopsy, would he?  Although it was Sherlock, he probably had it in his bloody will that only she was allowed to perform it, it wasn’t as if she hadn’t done it before, no matter if it was fake. 

There was a loud noise in the empty lab and she looked around as if trying to figure out what it was.  The doors to the lab burst open and Mary rushed in, her eyes wide. 

“Oh Molly luv, it’s okay.”  She hurried across the lab and gathered her into her arms.  It was only then that Molly realized that the noise had come from her and that her face was wet from crying.  She clutched at Mary’s jacket, sobbing openly against the woman’s shirt, one hand still clutched desperately to her mobile.

 

 Mary stroked Molly’s hair as she sobbed brokenly against her, feeling guilty as hell about the entire thing.  She hadn’t meant to shoot the prat, he hadn’t given her a choice.  And everything had turned out fine.  He was fine.  Not that it mattered when she was in the basement of the hospital holding on to the one person who might love Sherlock more than she and John did.

From the time Sherlock entered her life-physically, not just as a story John often told, the pathologist seemed to be an addition as well.  She’d heard John talk about the pathologist, usually off-handedly or during the stories he would tell her but she hadn’t truly seen the woman until Sherlock returned from the dead.  She still remembered the first time she saw the woman; such a tiny thing, she reminded Mary of a butterfly; always flitting about never really landing in one place or another for very long.  And usually accompanied by Sherlock.  In fact, by her third meeting with Molly, she was quite sure there was something going on, but John insisted she was just a friend and that Sherlock Holmes didn’t do any sort of sentiment.  Which, of course, Mary knew to be bull, the man was her husband’s best friend.  It wasn’t until she dropped in on Molly and saw the picture of the baby that lived in her house that she realized she had been right, there was something deeper between Molly and Sherlock.  Something John didn't know about.  She didn’t know exactly how it had come about, especially since this was the one thing Sherlock missed, but something had happened and Molly’s son was the result of it.  And here she was, holding the crying woman after she’d shot her son’s father not hours before.  If only her old team could see her now.

Her heart clinched and she pushed the thought away, focusing instead on the crying pathologist. 

“Shhh.”  She cooed.  “It’s okay, he’s okay.  He’s out of the woods and sleeping for what might be the first time in weeks, right upstairs.  I can even tell you the room number in case you want to sneak in something during the night.”

 Molly sniffed, pushing herself away from Mary and feeling a bit awkward that she had collapsed- once again- in front of the woman.

“Sorry.”

“No, don’t be sorry.  You more than have the right to break down in tears when someone you love has been hurt.”

She wiped at her eyes, grabbing a couple of Kleenex to blow her nose and wipe at her face.  “Do we know what happened?”

Mary grimaced.  “Um…all I know is what John told me.  Apparently he’d been using Janine to get into Magnassen’s office.  Janine was already knocked out cold as was a bodyguard.  Sherlock went upstairs to confront Magnassen or whomever was still there and was taken unawares, I guess.  John said he heard a thud and hurried upstairs to check.  Sherlock had been shot, Magnassen was on the floor unconscious and John heard sirens in the distance.  He thinks Magnassen might have pressed an alarm before he was knocked out cold.  The medics came in and started procedures on Sherlock.  They took him into theatre and the doctor said he coded on the table once but they got the bullet out and stitched him up right again and he’s fine.”  She placed her hands on Molly’s face, ducking her head to looked at her.  “He’s going to be okay Molly.”

Molly nodded, her breath hitching again.  Mary gave her a reassuring smile. 

“You wanna cut out for a mo and go up and see him?  You know you aren’t going to be at rights until you see for yourself.”

Molly shook her head.  Her heart was still pounding and she wasn’t sure if she saw him she’d be able to keep from throwing herself onto his bed and sobbing again. 

“I look a mess.  I go up there now and the nurses will know I’ve been crying.”

“Hang them.”  Mary sneered and she grinned despite the tears. 

“Yeah.  I’ll be okay.  Give me him room number and I’ll pop in later this evening on break and check up on him.”

“You sure?” 

Molly nodded.  She could feel the initial panic subsiding in her chest and she could breathe again.

“I’m sure.  Sorry about earlier.”

“Stop.  Stop apologizing right now.  Completely understandable.”  She looked hesitant for a moment.  “Um…maybe you should tell him…you know…about….”

Molly let out a heavy sigh.  “Mary, he’s just come down from a three day drug binge.  And now he’s in hospital with an almost fatal gunshot wound.  All for a supposed case against one of the most powerful media moguls in the country.  Do you really think right now is the right time to drop the secret child bombshell on him?”

Mary chuckled.  “Right.  Forget I said anything.”

They heard footsteps in the outer hallway and a moment later the lab doors opened and John hurried through.  He hurried across the room and wrapped Molly up in a hug. 

“Sorry.  I am so sorry I didn’t call sooner.”

“It’s alright, really John.”

He pulled back and studied her. She knew he could see the red rims of her eyes and her still splotched face.  “Are you really?”  He turned to Mary, one arm still around Molly’s shoulder.  An action that made her feel comforted and included. 

“I talked to the doctor again.  He’s fine, the arse.  He’ll sleep through the night, they’ve got him on morphine, which I had to tell the doctor that he’s an addict and to measure his dosage.  Mycroft has someone posted by his door so he’s safe for the moment.  We can go home and come back tomorrow sometime after he’s woken.”

Molly’s phone vibrated silently in her pocket and she ignored it for the moment, instead listening to John. 

“God, yes, I’d love some sleep.”  Mary said.  John nodded.  He moved his arm from Molly’s shoulder and looked down at her. 

“Can you do me a favor and just…go check on him sometime tonight.  I’m sure Mycroft’s guy will let you pass, I told him you needed to be on any list they have.  Just…keep me updated.”

She nodded, forcing a smile onto her face.  “I can do that.  I’ll go up on my break.”

“Thanks Molls,”  He dropped a kiss on her cheek and walked over to Mary who was giving her a look.  She waved to both of them as they left her lab.  Only then did she relax and pull her phone from her pocket. 

 

**No doubt you’ve already heard, my dear brother has gotten himself into another bind.  Room 1204E  There is a guard but he has been instructed to allow you entrance, no matter the time.  MH**

 

Ah, there he was.  As usual, making sure everything is in place before contacting her.  

 

**Thank you.  I’ll check on him tonight.  Mx**

**Do.  And keep me updated.  MH**

 

* * *

 

It was late that night when she finally managed to sneak upstairs to the ward.  As expected, there was a guard sitting beside a door to a room.  He looked up as she approached.  She gave a little wave and showed him her badge. 

“Hello.”  She said quietly, not wanting to alert the nurses.  Just because she was talking to the guard didn’t mean she wanted the nurses to know she was up here past visiting hours.  The guard nodded before she said anything else, standing up and opening the door. 

“Go right in Doctor Hooper.  I’ll let you know if anyone is coming by.”

Oh.  Right.  Mycroft must have given her top access.  She gave him another smile as she passed by him into the room.  The door shut behind her and she stood for a moment, letting her eyes adjust to the dark of the room.  There a was small light in which to guide the nurses when they took vitals without having to inconvenience a sleeping patient but other than that, the rest of the room was dark and quiet save for the steady beep of the heart monitor.

In the dim light of the room she could see him.  Dark hair wild, skin pale as marble.  It was almost hard to tell where he ended and the white of the bed-sheets began.  She took a deep, shaky breath and crept closer towards the bed.  She kept expecting him to open his eyes at any moment and ask what she was doing in his room.  But he never moved.  She almost collapsed into the chair next to the bed, where John had been sitting, she assumed, her eyes never leaving his sleeping form.  Leaning forward, her hand reached out tentatively, pausing just a brief moment before coming to rest lightly on top of his.  She scanned what she could see of his body professionally, noticing the lump under his hospital gown where bandages would be covering surgery.  The IV in his other arm that was connected to the pain pump and the solution keeping him hydrated.  The small indentations under his gown of the pads on his chest that were keeping track of his heart. 

“You fool.”  She whispered, a thumb lightly stroking the top of his hand.  “You utter utter fool.  You had us scared.  John, Mary, myself.  Terrified you weren’t going to make it.  You almost didn’t.  They said you died on the table.”  She leaned closer, lowering her face to his hand, her breath warming the skin.  “Please don’t make me do another autopsy on your body Sherlock, I don’t think I could bear it if it were real this time.”

His fingers twitched and she straightened, lifting her hand from him.  A finger wrapped around one of hers, holding her hand to his.  Her eyes lifted to his face, expecting to see ice blue eyes but she was still asleep, his brow furrowed, his lips parted, but asleep.  Hesitantly, she lifted a hand, her eyes staying on his face as her free hand gently brushed across his forehead, brushing away an errant curl.  His face softened and he let out a soft sigh, his fingers tightening against hers.  His lips mouthed a single word but she couldn’t tell what he said. 

“Shhh,”  she hushed, moving her hand from his face and sitting back.  “It’s all right.  Rest, we’re here.  I promise, I’ll always be here. ”

 


	27. Chapter 27

 

The next day she had an early evening shift so her sleep schedule was a bit short.  She’d stayed in Sherlock’s room for over an hour, her hand in his before she returned to her position in the lab.  She sent a text to both John and Mycroft that morning before she left her shift and gave a brief explanation of how the night went.  Then she home and went to bed. 

She awoke at noon to get ready so she could spend time with William before she had to leave for her shift.  William was in a better mood today, his bright grin directed at her as she walked down the stairs. 

“Ma!”  he called out from inside his block palace.  Even for a little over a year and a half his fine motor and cognitive skills were so much more advanced than other children his age.  She felt the familiar lump in her chest when she realized that one day he’d be smarter than even her.  He’d have to be tested when he was older, she already knew this.  Coming from a paternal lineage of geniuses there was no doubt in her mind that he was going to be just as smart as that half of his DNA.  She watched as he crawled under the opening he’d created in his block castle and then toddled towards her. 

“Hello darling, how are you feeling?”  she picked him up and gave him a quick hug which he returned. 

“Nana,”  he pointed towards the kitchen and she turned carrying him as she walked into the kitchen.  Dana stood against the island, reading a paper and drinking a cup of coffee.  Her eyes glanced up as Molly and Will entered the kitchen and she quickly closed the paper, flipping it over on its back. 

“Didn’t expect you to be up this early.”

“I have the afternoon shift,”  she nodded towards the paper.  “What’s that?”

Dana’s gaze told of uncomfortableness.  She glanced down once at the paper before giving a huge sigh and rolling up the paper.  William wriggled in her arms and she let him down.

“I didn’t want you to see this, but if you’re going into work in a couple of hours I’m sure someone is going to tell you anyway.”  She handed the paper to Molly who took it. She opened the paper.  Splashed on the cover of the paper was a picture of Sherlock wearing his deerstalker and the headlines that read:  **Seven times a night on Baker Street!**

Her legs wobbled and she fell back against one of the chairs, her eyes not leaving the cover of the paper. 

“I didn’t want to tell you,”  Dana was saying.  “Because I knew how you’d react.  This can’t be right, none of it makes any sense.”

All Molly could do was stare at the article.  The small picture on the side was of a brunette woman with a smirk on her lips.  The maid of honor at Mary and John’s wedding.  He’d been shagging the Maid of Honor.

“Molly?  Molls are you all right?”

“Ma?”

William was tugging on her leg, trying to use her pajama bottoms to climb up into her lap.  Blinking, she picked him back up and set him onto her lap.  He looked up at her perplexed by her expression, before reaching up to plop a wet loud kiss on her cheek and settling back against her lap in a cuddle.  He eyed the picture in front of him, pointing at the hat. 

“at!”

Molly smiled at her son.  “Yes, hat.”  She turned her attention to a worried looking Dana.  “Sorry, yes I’m fine.  Sherlock’s bloody lucky he was shot last night because I’m damn close to offing him myself.”

Dana frowned.  “He was shot?  Is he okay?”

“He was stable when I left him last night.”

William pointed at the picture again, his finger pressing against the picture of Sherlock himself.  “Da.”

Dana snickered.  Molly sighed, looking back at her son. 

“Yes, William.  That’s your da.  The prat that he is.”

“You going to talk to him today?”

Molly shrugged, letting William study the picture.  “And say what?  He’s a grown man…physically.  And we aren’t in any sort of arrangement.  Who he shags isn’t any of my business.  Although, I am thinking very seriously of disengaging his morphine pump.”

Dana raised her mug.  “Would serve him right.”

 

* * *

 

No matter what she’d told Dana, by the time she’d reached Barts that afternoon, she’d worked herself up into an agitated anger that seemed to radiate from her body.  People she knew who would have normally spoken to her or taken great pleasure in making sure she’d seen the headlines, avoided her as she stormed through the hallways.  Even the interns and lab techs shied away from her as she did her job.  She kept herself locked down in the lab and the morgue and away from any gossip that might have been going on around the upper floors.

By late afternoon she was dying for a cup of coffee and therefore finally emerged from her self-appointed exile to grab a quick break and a cuppa.  On her way she ran into John.    
“Molly!”  he exclaimed breathlessly as she was paying for her coffee.  He followed her towards a table.  “So glad I found you.  Sherlock’s run off.”

She frowned as she took a seat.  “What do you mean, run off?  He just had surgery yesterday.”

“Seems he had a visitor this morning and by early afternoon he was nowhere to be found.”  From his tone, Molly suspected she knew just who the “visitor” had been.  “Mary and I are searching all of his previous bolt holes and have come up with nothing.  Do you have any idea where else he would hide out if he wasn’t going to Baker Street?”

“Um,”  she picked at the Styrofoam of the cup.  “My flat.”

John frowned.  “Pardon?”

“My flat.  He used to use my flat as a bolt hole.  Rather my bedroom.  I usually slept on the couch.  We agreed he needed the space.”  She took a sip of her coffee, knowing that information wasn’t going to help a bit.  He wasn’t at her flat because her flat wasn’t hers anymore.  Had he gone there, he’d be in custody by now and this charade would’ve ended before it began.  Although she was slightly worried about him running about the city less than a day after surgery.  There were all sorts of risks of him tearing something or bleeding internally.  She looked back up at John who now wore the expression of startled indignation.

“Oh, Molly”  he said and she shrugged off his pity. 

“I haven’t seen him since he got back John, that is to say, he hasn’t come ‘round.  So I doubt that would be any help to you.  Maybe try his homeless network?”

John blinked.  “Actually, that’s brilliant.  Thanks Molly.”  He stood up, kissed her cheek and hurried off.  Finishing her coffee, she tossed her cup and headed back downstairs.

 

* * *

 

The rest of her shift went by in a blur.  There had been an influx of ordered testing sent down which kept her busy for hours.  By the time the time she had finished everything that had come down in the early evening alone, she was already thirty minutes after her shift and Doctor Wilson had already come in and started on the newest batch of orders.  

“Go home Molly, you look exhausted.”  He said as she stretched her back, hearing her vertebrae pop. 

“Thanks Sean, I appreciate that.  I didn’t know it was so late.”

She walked down the hallway towards the locker room and shrugged off her lab coat, hanging it up as she slid her phone from one of the pockets to transfer it to her other jacket.  Her notification light was blinking so she swiped to check any messages.  She hadn’t even looked at her phone once she returned from break, they’d been so busy.  She hadn’t even had a chance to grab supper; one of the techs had taken pity on her and bought her a bag of crisps from vending.    She had five messages. 

 

**Lsdfkha kjjcvxhbkl sdjaolfhsdjlfa DM**

**Sorry!  Sorry, Will got ahold of my phone! DM**

**S has been returned. Same room. MH**

**Found Sherlock.  Back in hospital.  Internal bleeding.  Thinking of handcuffing him to bed. MW**

**Can you pick up some milk on the way home?  Maybe crisps too? DM**

 

She saved the last message on her phone as a reminder, and grabbed her bag and jacket, slamming the locker door shut behind her as she stormed out of the locker room.  The anger that had abated during her shift rushed back to the forefront with frightening speed.  Internal bleeding, she knew it!  Just for once, she’d love for him to think of the consequences of doing something before he bloody well did it. 

She stormed towards the lifts and took it up to the Surgery wing.  The same guard was sitting in front of the door.  He glanced towards her as she stomped down the hallways, as if her indignation reached him before she did and scrambled to his feet, not even bothering to hide the smirk on his face as if he knew the man in the room was about to face his match. 

“Evening.  You’re here late.”

“Is he in there?”  she asked.  He opened the door in response, his smirk turning into a full blown grin as she stormed past him.  The door closed behind her as it had the night before, the familiar dimness of the room following the click of the door.  This time however, she didn’t even bother to be quiet. 

“Don’t even pretend you’re sleeping Sherlock Holmes, I know you aren’t.”  she hissed towards the sleeping man in the hospital bed.  Eyes opened and he looked towards her.

“Have you come to nurse me back to health?”  his tone was dry, condescending.  She dropped her stuff into the chair by his bed and glared at him. 

“I’ve come to bloody handcuff you to the bed if you so much as think of even stepping out of it for a moment.  And don’t smirk at me, this isn’t funny!”  she snapped.  He grinned at her outrage which made her even angrier.  “You were shot!”

“Yes.  I was there.”

“Why is everything a joke to you?”  She could feel her eyes growing hot and she blinked hard, forcing the tears away.  “You shouldn’t even have gotten out of bed to go to the loo much less run around London.  What in the hell were you thinking?  You were bleeding internally.  You could have died!”

“I was thinking I needed to stop who shot me.”

“And did you get them?”

“It’s been taken care of.”

“That is not an answer.”

“It’s the only one you’re going to get.”

She took a deep breath to keep from screaming.  Or throttling him.  He was a six foot tall toddler, that’s all he was. 

“Are you safe?”

“From the person who shot me, yes.”

“Which means you’ll stay where you are until your physician releases you.”

He gave her a look.  “I have a mother, Molly.”

“I thought you were created in a petri dish.”

“Don’t make jokes.  Now are you quite finished berating me?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

His mouth quirked up again.  “When did you grow a backbone Molly Hooper?”

“You know very well when it comes to you, I have one when you piss me off enough.”

“I do.  In fact, my face still tingles from where you smacked me.”

“Don’t be cheeky.  I’m surprised you felt anything.”

He hefted a sigh and she felt a twinge of regret for yelling at him.  But only a small twinge.

“Are you in pain?  Do I need to get the nurse?”

He shook his head.  “No, I’m fine.  And if you get the nurse there will be questions. Which,” His eyes narrowed.  “There’s a man at my door, how did you get in past visiting hours?”

“I work here.  Your brother sent me a message to check in on you at the end of my shift.”

“So, you’re spying on me for my brother now?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.  You know damn well I would never tell your brother anything about you.  Other than the obligatory, he’s fine and back to his annoying prattish self.”

Sherlock chuckled.  “Sit down Molly.  I’d like the company for a little while.”

She looked around the room before sitting down.  “By the way, sorry to hear about your break up, although I’m fairly glad for the lack of sobbing girlfriend while I berated you.”

The grin he gave her was pure William.  “Well played Doctor Hooper, well played.”


	28. Chapter 28

**I’m bored SH**

**Stuck here for two more days SH**

**Might break something  SH**

**DON’T BREAK MY HOSPITAL! Mx**

**But I’m BORED! SH**

**What am I supposed to do about that? Mx**

**Come up here and entertain me. SH**

 

Molly stared at her phone.  Really, her son was more well behaved than him.  When William grew bored, he built block castles and knocked them down. Those simple actions could keep him entertained for hours.  Sometimes his favorite stuffed dog was the unfortunate victim of such destruction.  It meant he was discovering cause and effect.  Briefly, she wondered if she should buy Sherlock a set of those large blocks.

In any event, she was halfway through her shift and couldn’t just run up there to entertain him.  She had specimens to process and tests to conduct for other patients who were here. 

**I’m working. Mx**

**Bored Molly SH**

**It’s overnight.  Nothing happening.  You can’t possibly have work to do. SH**

**I might dismantle my IV  SH**

**You’re actually saving hospital equipment. SH**

**You know what happens when I get bored. SH**

 

The texts were sent rapid fire, on after the other which meant he was really bored.  But unfortunately, there was nothing she could do about it at the moment.  She had two test that were STAT and her lunch wasn’t for at least another hour.

 

**Actually we are busy tonight. Mx**

**Can’t get away for another hour. Mx**

**Find something to do until then and I’ll take my lunch break to sit with you. Mx**

**MOLLY!!!!!!!  SH**

 

She slid her phone back into her lab coat pocket and got to work.  It went off every minute or two, the silent buzz of the phone against her pocket material quiet but noisy enough to catch her attention.  It seemed his idea of finding something to do was to continuously text her.

The hour went by quickly and she finished all the STAT requests in a reasonable time, even for her.  She stretched out her back, groaning in relief when it popped and pulled her phone from her pocket as she wandered towards the back to quickly sign off of the reports before she took her lunch.  Vaguely she heard noises down the hallway but figured it was the night custodial staff.

 

**Molly SH**

**You are being cruel. SH**

**Stop ignoring me, I’m bored. SH**

**That’s it, if the room is in shambles you’ve only yourself to blame. SH**

**Are you really not going to respond?  SH**

**Right. Then I know how to act. SH**

**The nurse took away my pain pump.  SH**

**They can’t do that, what if I’m in pain? SH**

**I’m bored Molly.  Bored. SH**

**Bored SH**

**Bored SH**

**Bored SH**

**Boredboredboredboredbored Even Twitter is boring! SH**

**Your hour is up.  Where are you? SH**

**You said an hour. SH**

**Fine, if you won’t come to me… SH**

 

She heard the door to the lab swing open as she read his final message and then his voice.

“Molly!”

“Sherlock?”  She stepped out of her lab, staring in horror at the man in her lab area.  Dressed in a hospital gown and thin robe, socks on his feet and the IV pole by his side, he glared at her.  Behind him stood the less than amused guard.

“It’s been an hour.”  He pointed out, waving his phone towards her.  “You said an hour.”

“It would’ve taken less time had someone not spent that hour blowing up my mobile.” She snapped back.  Behind him, the guard sighed.  Sherlock turned enough to give the guard a cold look.  From his movements, Molly could tell he was still sore. 

“Are you even supposed to be out of bed?”  she asked. 

“No.”  The guard answered for him.  “But he was causing such a fuss upstairs, I think the nurses were just happy to get him off their ward for a bit.”

“Yes, thank you very much for your commentary.”  Sherlock snapped.  His face was growing paler and she knew he was going to keel over any minute.  Hurrying towards the table, she pulled out one of the stools. 

“Come here and sit down before you fall over.  I don’t think our friend wants to haul you off the floor and if I have to call a code over you it means a longer stay.”

He ambled towards the stool and took a seat, sighing in relief.  She couldn’t help but to look him over. 

“You’re paler than usual.  You really need to be back in your room.”

“My room is boring.”

“Can’t you…I don’t know, go to your mind palace or something?”

“Already reorganized.  Nothing happening.  I need something to do Molly.”

Molly sighed.  “Fine.  If I pull your experiments you can work with those for a bit.  But only an hour. Two at most.  I mean it Sherlock.  You’re already taxing your body, I won’t be responsible for your collapsing in my lab.”

He grinned.  “But think of the story.”

“I’d prefer not to.”  She pointed to where he sat.  “Stay there, I’ll get your supplies.”

“You walk with angels, Molly Hooper.”

The last time he’d told her that was after John’s stag party when he was drunk.  Which meant he did remember their conversation.  She smiled, turning her attention to the guard. 

“There’s a chair in my office just back there,”  she pointed towards the room in the back of the lab.  “If you want to have a seat or some time away.  I promise I’ll call out if anything happens.”

The guard nodded once. 

“Thank you Ma’am.”

“Why does he get your office?”  Sherlock asked. 

“You’re getting my time and something to do, who’s benefitting here?”

 

* * *

 

She allotted him two hours.  Two hours he sat on the bench working on experiments quietly and happily.  She was able to finish more of the orders that came down while keeping an eye on him.  It really had worked out rather well.  At the end of two hours she made him quit his experiments, which he did without any fuss.  The guard stepped out of her office as she was taking the tray of slides from him. 

“Your hands are freezing!”  she exclaimed as their fingers brushed between the exchange.  She put the tray up and turned back to him.  “Why didn’t you tell me you were cold?  I could’ve gotten you a blanket or something.”

“I’m fine.”  He answered, his hand gripping the IV pole a little tighter as he struggled to stand.  “I’ve been down here before.”

“Yes.  In a full suit and your greatcoat.  You’re barely wearing anything.”

A slight smirk and a raised eyebrow was her response.

“Get out of my lab.  Go back upstairs and lay down.”

“I…might need a bit of help with that.”  He mumbled.  The guard hurried towards him as he swayed and Molly panicked, rushing over to him and sliding under his arm to support him up.  His knees buckled and his free arm landed heavily on her shoulder. 

“You fool.”  She murmured.  “I said you were still too ill to be out of bed.”

The guard watched her.  “You have him, Ma’am?”

“Seems I do now.”  She wrapped an arm around his waist, steadily ignoring the fact that his weight was rested on her, his arm was around her shoulder and hers was around a waist separated only by a robe and gown. “Come on you great idiot.  Back up to your room.”

They took the hallways slowly, one of his hands gripping the IV pole, the other still wrapped around Molly’s shoulder. The guard looked nervously the entire walk to the elevators.  Once in, Sherlock leaned against the wall, not releasing his hold on Molly’s shoulder.  His eyes were closed and his breathing was labored.  Bead of sweat were dotting his forehead.  The lift opened to his floor and she tighten her grip on his robe and helped him walk down the hallway towards his room.  Halfway down, a couple of the nurses hurried towards them.

“Mr. Holmes!”  One exclaimed after seeing his continence.  “Let me get a chair.”

“No.  Almost there.  I’ll walk the rest.”  He gritted out.  Molly gave a worried sigh and focused on getting him to his room before he collapsed on her.  They made it to his room and she crossed the floor, turning when they reached his bed so he could sit down.  Only then did he release his grip on her shoulder.  He slid into the bed with a grateful sigh and didn’t say a word when she pulled the blankets over his body. 

“Please, try to relax.”  She said softly.  She could hear the nurses coming in behind her.  “You’re going to have another setback.”

His eyes opened and he gave her a smile.  “Thank you for a lovely evening Molly Hooper.”

Despite herself, she smiled, squeezing his hand before releasing it and stepping back to the nurses could take his vitals.  She watched for only a moment before turning and heading out of the room and back to her lab.  She didn’t notice Sherlock’s eyes following her out of the room. 


	29. Chapter 29

“What are your plans for Halloween?”

“Um…Will, stop that.  Eat your food, stop making towers with your carrots.”

Mary snickered on the other end.  “Things to look forward to, eh?”

 

In her kitchen, Molly sighed as she glared at her son, kneeling in a chair at the table and currently still building a tower out of sliced carrot chips and happily ignoring his mother.  “I honestly think he’s going to ignore both parents chosen professions and become an architect.”

“Just remember dear, Sherlock wanted to be a pirate when he was that age.”

Molly chuckled, that tidbit of information never got old. “Good point.  Are you…how are you doing?”

A bit after Sherlock finally got out of the hospital, Mary showed up at the house looking nervous.  Molly made tea and they talked.  Or rather, Mary talked.  She told her that she was once in a black ops government agency, but she’d long gotten out and was trying to turn over a new life.  After she’d left, Molly realized there was a reason she shared her secret, other than Magnassen threatening to expose her former life.   So she watched the next couple of times John and Sherlock had stopped by.  Sherlock was back to his usual self, but John…John was angry.  Which meant he hadn’t known about her previous life before they were married.  She also had an inkling that she knew who had shot Sherlock that fateful evening.  The revelation put her into two minds; one, that Mary was an excellent enough shot that had she wanted to kill Sherlock, she could have.  The other, Mary had shot Sherlock.  The woman who held her as she’d sobbed broken heartedly in the lab after she’d found out was the same woman who had put him in hospital in the first place.  She wanted to be angry.  She wanted to lash out.  In the end, she did neither of these things.  If Sherlock was okay with her, and he was, he was treating it as if it had never happened, then she had no reason to remain angry with the woman.  But she had made sure that Mary knew that she knew. 

“Oh, the usual.  My feet are swelling and I feel enormous.”

“You’re only, what, almost seven months?  Wait until the end when you can’t see your feet, you can’t get out of bed unless you roll off of it and you’re contemplating wearing slippers to work because none of your other shoes will fit.”

“It gets worse?” Mary’s horrified voice echoed through her ear and she grinned, still watching William stack carrot chips on top of each other, shoving one in his mouth intermittently.

“Trust me on this one, the moment you finally hold them in your arms, everything you went through all disappears from your mind.  It’s like your own version of Sherlock deleting memories.”

“Da!”  William chirped of from his spot, his mouth full of carrot.

“Stay out of this, you.”  She told him.  He turned in his seat so he was facing her, a carrot chip in one hand as he grinned cheekily at her.  He was almost two and looking more like his father by the day.  Mary laughed over the receiver. 

“You said the name.  Back to the original question, Halloween.  What are you doing?  Are you taking….” There was a pause and Molly frowned. 

“Mary, where are you?”

“Home.  John’s out with Sherlock but anymore, one can never be too careful.”

“Yes.  We’re doing the rounds probably.  It depends on what my young lord decides he wants to be.  Right now it’s between a doctor and his Uncle.”

“Myc!”  William chirped again, his attention back on his carrot tower. Again Mary laughed. 

“Oh, do let him go as Mycroft.  I will pay good money to see those photos.”

“The other day he decided he wanted to be a dog, so I’m not sure how much weight the British Government has.”

“Do you mind if I tag along?”

Molly’s nose wrinkled in sympathy.  “Things still not good?”

“We don’t talk, Molly.”  She could hear tears in her voice, but then Mary cleared her throat and continued.  “it’s uncomfortable and I try to be understanding but I’m seven months pregnant and I still don’t know if I’m going to be raising this child alone or if I’m even going to make it to my first anniversary.”

“Mary, Mary, it’ll be all right, you’ll see.”  Molly cooed into the phone.  From the corner of her eye she could see William stop eating and watching her worriedly.  “John’s mad, I understand he’s angry but he loves you.  He’ll get over it soon enough. Especially since Sherlock loves you.  You know he won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Ma’ye!”  William said and Molly’s gaze cut to him.  He was frowning, his hand still holding a carrot hit the table beside him.  “Ma’ye hewe.  Ma’ye hewe.”

“Will thinks you should come to visit.”

Mary laughed weakly.  “Perhaps I should.  Maybe sitting with him would make me feel better.”

“Can’t hurt.  How long are the boys going to be out?”

“Sherlock said it was a six so probably a while longer.”

“Get a bus and come on over.  Dana’s out today so it’s just William and myself.  He can show you how he builds castles.”

She gave another laugh.  “You’ve convinced me, I’ll be there soon.”

 

* * *

 

The knock came on the front door an hour later and William crashed through his castle in a rush to get to the door.  Blocks fell everywhere and Toby, who’d been sleeping on the chair jumped and streaked up the stairs at the sudden commotion. 

“Ma’ye!”  he yelled as he reached the door, slapping at it.  Molly got up and followed him. 

“Possibly.  Hold on.”  She checked the peep hole, verifying it was indeed Mary before unlocking the door.  William scooted back as the door opened and revealed a very pregnant Mary Watson.  William’s eyes lit up as he saw her stomach. 

“Ma’ye!  Wha dat?”

Mary stepped into the house, pulling off her scarf as Molly closed the door behind her. 

“I haven’t seen you in months and that’s all you have to say to me?”

“Hi!”  William amended.  “Wha dat?”

“Mary’s going to have a baby, luv.”  Molly answered.  “Tea?”

“Yes please.” 

William stared at her stomach, eyes narrowed.  Mary grinned. 

“He’s deducing me again.”  She called out to Molly in the kitchen.

“He does that all the time.”

She moved around him to sit in the chair recently abandoned by Toby and sighed in relief.  William followed her.  He stopped right in front of her and raised a hand, patting at her stomach.  Mary felt her daughter kick and laughed at William’s suddenly shocked expression. 

“What?”  Molly asked from the kitchen. 

“She just kicked Will’s hand and I don’t think he liked it.” 

William frowned at her stomach again and reached out to pat it again.  The kick didn’t happen.  He looked up at Mary as if to demand she repeat the trick. 

“Sorry Will, she’s a bit stubborn.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why der?”  He patted at her stomach once more.  Mary grinned. 

“Molly!”  she called out.  “I really don’t think you want me teaching your son sex ed, yeah?”

“Lord!”  Molly hurried out holding two mugs.  She handed one to Mary who took it gratefully.  “Will, Mary had a baby in her stomach.  After Christmas, she’ll come out and then you can see her properly.”

His lower lip jutted out as he looked between his mother and her friend.  He patted Mary’s stomach again.  “Now.”

“It’s doesn’t work that way luv,” Molly said.  “You’ll have to be patient.”

It was obvious he didn’t like that answer but he was willing to accept it.  Sighing dejectedly, he wandered back to his blocks and began the task of building another castle.  Mary watched him smiling. 

“If this one is one tenth as adorable as he is, I’ll be happy.”

“She’ll be beautiful.”

Mary sat back in the chair, one hand massaging her stomach.  “Thank you for having me over.”

“You’re always welcome here…as long as you’re alone and not followed.  And it seems that even from the very few times he’s seen you, Will seems to like you.”

“His father loves me, it’s only fair his son does too.”

 

* * *

 

 

“John is worried about you.”

“John can bloody well ask me if there’s something he wants to know.”

“Fine, I’m worried about you also.”

Mary rested her hands against the now clean surface of Sherlock’s kitchen counter and took a breath. 

“I know when you’re fibbing Sherlock.”

“Then you’ll know that I’m not.  Not at this moment.”  He snapped.  Taking another deep breath, she turned around and leaned her back against the counter, studying the tall Detective in the entryway.  John had left a bit ago, under the premise of getting coffee at the shop below them.  He stood in the entryway of the kitchen, hands behind his back, gazing steadily at her. 

“You don’t stay at home, haven’t for months now, you and John are barely civil to each other, which I know I promised not to get involved in.”  He raised a hand before she could even open her mouth to speak.  “And I won’t, no matter how much it is driving me mad.  You are my friend Mary, I understand why you did what you did, even if John doesn’t and I respect that.   But I made a vow, and I intend to honour it, even if it is against yourself.  Now, I don’t care if you never tell John, but tell me; what are you doing?”

She watched him warily from across the room, her heart hurting.  She really did love him, and this, right now, was one of those reasons why.  It was this that she wasn’t sure John could ever see in his friend.  Sherlock Holmes didn’t have friends.  He had family.

“I…I’m with Molly.”  She admitted.  He frowned. 

“Molly Hooper?”

“Yes Molly Hooper.  I go over there when she’s not at work and we…do things.  We talk, get coffee, sit around in her sitting room and watch crap telly.  It’s nice to have someone to talk to who understands my life and the people in it.”

She didn’t mention the trips to the park or the toddler who ran around the same sitting room building castles with large blocks that had completely charmed her heart.  Sherlock stared at her for a moment and then gave her a smile. 

“There are worse people in this world you could be spending time with than Molly Hooper.  She is a good friend.”

Mary met his gaze.  “She is.”

He nodded and turned back into the sitting room. 

“Just promise you’ll text if you need anything.  I won’t tell John we had this talk.”

She smiled at his retreating form.  “I promise.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Oh, it’s times like these I so wish I could snap pictures!”  Mary wailed.  Beside her, Molly chuckled. 

“I have more than a couple.  And more than a couple might have been sent to Mycroft with the words,  _like father, like son_.”

Mary grinned as she watched the toddler scamper ahead of them, one hand firmly in Dana’s, the other on his bag.  He’d come across a picture book and had promptly decided three days before Halloween that he no longer wanted to be a dog for costume, but instead a pirate.  He was now excitedly hurrying down the block dressed in ragged black pants, a red and white striped shirt with a purple sash and a pirate’s hat.  His wooden sword hung low on a makeshift scabbard and drug against the ground.  His black curls shoved under the hat just cemented him as the cutest pirate in the cul de sac.

“What did Mycroft say?”

“I haven’t received an answer yet, but I’m sure he’s amused.”

Mary shook her head.  “I just can’t believe Mycroft is such an absolute attentive Uncle.”

“Will adores his Uncle.  Beside myself and Dana, I do believe Mycroft is third on that list, with you being a close forth.”

“So where did Tom fit on that list?”

“He didn’t.  Will hated him.  He’d cry when Tom came ‘round to pick me up.  Then he started ignoring him. There was nothing about Tom that Will liked at all.”

“Well, no wonder you both broke up.”

Molly gave her an odd look.  “I would’ve thought you’d have figured it out by now.  Tom was a plant.  I was never engaged to him.  We weren’t even really dating.  I’d made him up when I found I was pregnant just to push the questions away from everyone trying to figure out how I was pregnant almost a year after Sherlock ‘died’.  Mycroft set me up with Tom two months before Sherlock returned.  I finally had to break it off with him because it was coming down to choosing between my son and my fake fiancé.”

“I knew there was something about him!”  Mary exclaimed.  “Nobody is that awkwardly adorable.”

Molly smirked.

“But why?”

“As I’ve said, to keep the gossip about me to a minimum.  And, I suppose, Mycroft keow Sherlock was coming home soon so he gave him a deterrent.  What better deterrent than the fiancé to the mother of your unknown child?”

“You moved.  John and Sherlock don’t know yet,” Mary worked out.  “Tom was brought in to make sure Sherlock wouldn’t continue using your flat as a bolt hole.  Because the first time he went to your old flat, he’d discovered you’d moved and would then try to deduce where you moved to.

“It also gave me an excuse of why I moved.  If I was living with Tom, we’d have to move into a new flat.  Like I’ve said, Sherlock is not in a good place.  He’s currently caught up in something.  Something bigger than any of us and I’ll be damned if I allow anyone to use my son as a lynchpin or a trigger point.”

William came racing back, his bag full of candy and a wild grin on his face.  Molly smiled at him, bending down as he approached her, arms outstretched. 

“Hello my little pirate.  Did you have fun?”

“I think Captain Hooper is ready to return to his cabin.”  Dana joked.  Molly picked him up and he settled quickly onto her hip, his head already resting on her shoulder.  The hat tipped off and Mary snatched it at the last moment. 

“Hold on, darling.”  She put the hat on her head and tilted it at a jaunty angle.  William craned his neck to watch her, his mouth splitting in a wide smile when he saw the hat.  “Yes, I think it’ll do nicely.”

“ ‘at.”  William announced sleepily, his free hand wrapping around his mother’s neck before burying his face into the crook of her neck.

“If he says awake until we make it home, I’ll be surprised.”  Dana said.  She eased the bag of treats from his hand and his other arm immediately wrapped around his mother’s neck also.  Mary smiled. 

“He is so sweet.”

“When he’s sleeping, yeah.”  Dana joked. 

 

The women stepped into the house, Dana locking the doors behind them as Molly climbed the stairs to change William and put him to bed.  Mary sat down on the couch with a sigh of relief and rested against the back cushions.  Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she pulled it out. 

 

**John and I out of town on case.  Solid 8. SH**

**Are you with Molly? SH**

**Can you stay there until we return? SH**

 

She smiled at the messages. 

“Dana?”  she called out to the woman who’d walked into the kitchen.  “Do you mind if I just stay here tonight?”

“Nah, I can set up the spare for you.”  Dana called back. 

“Thanks.” 

 

**There shouldn’t be a problem with that. MW**

**We’ll collect you when we’ve returned. SH**

**No need, I’ll probably be at the clinic.  MW**

**You’ll only be gone a day or two, right?  MW**

**Possibly. SH**

 

Molly came down the stairs moments later, her phone in her hand.  Mary craned her neck around to watch the woman descend. 

“Let me guess.  You got a text from Sherlock.”

Molly glanced up sheepishly.  “He asked if you could stay over.  Apparently, you’ve told him that you’re hanging around with me.”

“Just you, I told him.  Nothing else.”

“I told him it wasn’t a problem.  You can take my bed.”

Mary frowned.  “Molly, no.”

“I insist.  The spare is not what you want to be sleeping on when you’re pregnant.  Plus, it’s in Will’s room, so I have absolutely no issue with sleeping in there. We can share a cab tomorrow when we’re both off to work.”

Mary smiled.  “Thank you.”

Molly returned her smile.  “Now, I’m absolutely gagging for some tea.  Care for a cup?”


	30. Chapter 30

“Dana, no!”

“Molly, yes!”

“Can we just get through Christmas first before you start telling me what I should get our lord and master for his birthday?”

Sitting in the chair on the other side of Molly’s desk, Mary grinned widely.  Over the speaker, Dana’s voice was amused. 

“I think if you did this you’d rather have him set for both Christmas and his birthday.”

“He’s going to be two not forty-two,”  Molly argued as she typed out her report.  “I hardly think he’s going to think the same thing.”

“Well he is special.”

“Not special enough that bringing a strange man ‘round and saying; here’s your dad, is going to complete with, say, a new set of blocks or perhaps that toy pirate ship to play with in the backyard sandbox.”

“No, but you have to admit, it’d be an amazing present.”

“He’s two Dana, Mary help me out,”  Molly insisted.  “If it isn’t Uncle Mycroft, he doesn’t care.”

“Yes Mary,”  Dana repeated, “Help me out.  He’s Uncle Mycroft’s brother.  And his dad.  That already makes him important.”

Mary struggled to keep the laughter out of her voice as she answered the two women.  Apparently this was a familiar debate between the two.  “As I am hugely pregnant and hormonal, I’m going to have to side with Dana on this one, Will really should know his dad.”

“Thank you Mary.”

“Thanks Mary,”

“Sorry Moll.”

“It’s not like I’m hiding him from Sherlock,”  Molly insisted.  “I will tell him, just as soon as the time is right.  He almost died this past summer and before that he was on a three day heroin binge.  And, might I remind the jury, that he is currently in some sort of secret battle with a media mogul that will end up who knows how.  The man cannot go a week without being in some sort of trouble.”

“Nana!”  In the background of Dana’s call they could hear William yelling for the woman.  ‘’Food Nana!”

“Hold on,  I’m putting you ladies on speaker so I can get Himself his lunch.”

Mary snickered.  “I do adore all these little nicknames you have for him.”

William’s excited voice  came over the line.  “Ma’ye?”

Mary’s grin grew wider.  “Hello William.”

“Hi Ma’ye.”

“Did you ever think,”  They heard Dana said in the distance.  “That perhaps he wouldn’t be so foolhardy if he knew he had a reason not to?”

Mary snorted.  “I’m not sure even knowing he had a kid would stop Sherlock from being an adrenaline junkie. Because, let’s face it, solving crimes is just another high for him.”

“Da!”

“Exactly,”  Molly said, ignoring William’s statement.  “Why would I put Himself through the joy of knowing his father only to have him ripped away or forgotten?”

They heard a plate being placed on a table and the scrape of a chair being pulled out.  “William,”  Dana’s said calculating.  “Who is Sherlock Holmes?”

“Da!”  the answer came.  Molly rolled her eyes. 

“Dana, stop.”

“Hi Ma!”

“Hello darling. Are you being good?”

“No.”

Mary snickered.  “At least he’s honest.”

“You ‘ome?”

“Not yet darling.  But soon.”

“Awwww.”  Mary crooned.  They heard a door open and both women looked around. 

“Ma, ‘ome!”  William’s voice insisted over the speaker as Sherlock’s voice bellowed out Molly’s name. 

“Who dat?” William’s voice had lost all of its playfulness and had taken a cautious edge to it.

“Bugger,”  Molly whispered as Mary pushed herself up. 

“I’ve got this, finish your call.”

Molly pulled the phone from speaker as Mary stepped out of the office to greet the men, pulling the office door closed behind her. 

“Who dat?”  He repeated. 

“Work friend Will, Mummy has to go.”

“Noooo,”  the toddler whined.  “Ma ‘ome!”

“I still have work sweetheart.  But I’ll be home tonight, after your nap.”  She watched Mary talk with the two men, her back against the office door.  Sherlock looked from Mary to her through the window and she held up a finger to ask him to wait. 

“Ma.”

She turned her body a bit, so he couldn’t read her lips.  “Baby, I have to get back to work, can you put Dana on the phone.”

She could practically hear the pout on the other end of the phone and she bit her lip to keep from smiling.  “I love you the most, my darling.”

“’ove you.  Bye Ma!”

“Molly?”  Dana’s voice was back and Molly sighed.  

“Sorry, had to pull him off the phone.  Sherlock’s in the office and I didn’t want him getting suspicious.”

“If you told him…”

“Can’t now, must dash.”  She hung up and took a deep breath before crossing the office and opening the door. 

“Everything fine with that family?”  Mary immediately asked.  Molly glanced at her, saw her look and nodded. 

“Yep.  Wrong hospital.  I found out who had their grandfather and it’s all settled.”  She turned her attention to the two men.  “Hi!  What’s happened?”

 

* * *

 

 

“Are you working Christmas?”

Molly looked up from her computer.  Sherlock was leaning against her open door frame watching her type. 

“I didn’t expect to see you here tonight?  Didn’t you solve your last case?”

He pushed off from the doorframe and walked in, collapsing into the chair on the other side of her desk. 

“Yep,”  he answered popping the P.  “ But I’m on post case let down and I’m trying to let John and Mary work out their own problems.  John’s being a arse and I can only keep my mouth shut about it for so long.  I promised Mary,”  He explained after seeing Molly’s confused look. 

“Yes.  That makes…well, no it doesn’t, but…yes, I’ll be working that night.  I usually do.  Why do you ask?”

He picked up a file from her desk and scanned it before putting it back down.  “Mycroft and I are supposed to do our yearly visit to our parents and this year I’m bringing John and Mary.  They need to get out of the city for a while and if John becomes too much of a prat, Mary can always toss his body into the closest lake.”

“Sherlock!”  she chastised.  “John is your friend.”

“So is Mary and as my friend, I’m well within my rights to tell him when he’s being a wanker.”

She bit her lip to hold back a smile.  She did like John, always have but she’s seen what the strain in their relationship has done to Mary and she can’t help but to be a bit more sympathetic towards her.

“See, even you agree with me.” 

“Stop reading my mind.”

“I can’t read your mind, Molly,”  he insisted.  “I can read the expressions on your face.”  He sat back in the chair and crossed his arms over his chest, an eyebrow raised and a slight smirk on his lips.  “I’m not sure I’d want to, God knows what you’re thinking at any given minute.”

She kept her face deliberately blank at that statement.  “Possibly all the gory details about my latest autopsy or Toby.”

The look on his face told her he didn’t believe her but he wasn’t going to call her out.  “Of course.  Do you…do you have any plans for the holidays?”

“Um….not really.”  She chanced another glance up at him as she signed off on another report and put it onto the growing stack.  “A friend from Uni invited me over to hers for dinner, but after that, it’s probably at home with movies until I have to get to work.”

“Well, perhaps, if I make it back to London without any murders happening, I’ll stop by that night and…work on some experiments.”

She bit back another smile.  That was practically Sherlock Holmes asking her for a date. 

“Of course,”  she answered instead.  “You know your experiments are always here waiting.”

He nodded as he pulled out his phone and scanned it.  “Good.  Well, must be off.”

She watched him as he jumped from the chair and hurried out of the lab, coat billowing behind him as always.  Maybe he was settling.  She’d see how the season went and then, who knew?  Maybe at the new year, she would share her secret.

 

* * *

 

“Myc! Myc Myc Myc!” William was almost galloping down the hallway on his way towards the front door.  He’d been in the bathroom with Dana washing his hands when he’d heard Mycroft’s voice in the hallway and had immediately rushed out of the room, his hands still a lathered, wet mess.  Dana raced after him.

“Get back here!”  she called out.  “You’re dripping all over the rugs!  William David Algernon Hooper!”

“Myc!” William yelled happily, cheerfully ignoring his nanny for his favorite Uncle.  Mycroft, arms holding two bags, merely had to raise an eyebrow to get the toddler to stop in his tracks, looking up at him expectantly like an excited puppy.  Dana caught up with him, a towel in her hands, and dried off his soapy, dripping hands. 

“Did you create a mess in the loo, Algernon?”  Mycroft asked.  William just grinned in response. 

“What is going on down there?”  Molly asked as she walked down the stairs to the main floor. She’d only gotten off an hour ago and had been upstairs changing when the commotion had started.  She stopped on the bottom step seeing Mycroft in the hallway.  “Oh, hello Mycroft.  I wasn’t expecting you today.”

She assumed Mycroft had a key to her house; he had, after all, been the one to acquire it, but as of yet he had never bothered to use it.  Until she’d texted him after Sherlock’s hospital visit to tell him he didn’t have to stand on ceremony when coming by the house.   It seems he’d taken that as permission.

“Christmas with the family,”  He held out one of the bags for her to take.  William jumped up and down once, his gaze shooting between Mycroft and Molly as if trying to figure out what was in the bag.  “We’re off tomorrow with the Watson’s and I fear, won’t be back until late Christmas evening.”

Molly took the bag with a smile.  “Do you want to stick around and have Will open your present now?  You can join us for dinner.”

“P’sn’ts!”  William cheered, jumping around again.  A slight smile crossed Mycroft’s face as he watched his nephew. 

“If it isn’t too much trouble.”  He conceded.  Molly smiled.

“Not at all.  Will will be excited for the company.  Mary hasn’t been ‘round for days and he misses his new friend.”

“Yes, I’ve heard of Mary’s frequent visits.”

“Ma’ye come.”  William followed Mycroft towards the back of the house towards the bathroom as he always did.  This time he was chattering away.  “Ma’ye pay w’ bocks.”

“Does she?”  They heard Mycroft ask before the door shut.  Molly went to put the presents in front of the tree and Dana headed towards the kitchen, draping the towel on the back of the closest chair as she passed. 

“So do you think Mycroft actually understands William or is he just humoring him?”  Dana asked when Molly entered the kitchen.  She shrugged. 

“The man speaks too many languages, I can only assume that maybe toddler is in there too?”

They could hear William’s babble heading back down the hallway, no doubt following his Uncle as they returned to the main part of the house. 

“I see ‘ohn?  I see Ma’ye, why no ‘ohn?”

Molly and Dana shared a horrified look.  Mycroft stepped into the kitchen followed closely by the curly haired toddler.  He gave the knowing look to both women before answering. 

“Perhaps you should ask Mary the next time she visits?”  he suggested to William.  The toddler nodded solemnly as if he understood completely that of course that the was obvious answer.    He moved around his Uncle to climb up in his chair before another question occurred to him.  He looked back at his Uncle who was accepting a glass of wine from his mother and opened his mouth. 

“Da ‘ere?”

The wine glass stopped halfway to Mycroft’s lips and Molly groaned. 

“Christ.  I’m going to kill you Dana.”  Molly muttered.  The wine glass had lowered and Mycroft was staring at his nephew. 

“Pardon?” 

Will looked at him, his blue eyes full of questions that, in his mind, only Mycroft had the answers to.  “Da.”  He patted the table.  “Da ‘ere.  I see Da?”

Mycroft looked back at Molly as if to ask;  _how do you wish me to answer this?_

With another glare directed at Dana who was suddenly very busy with pulling dinner from the oven, Molly slipped into the seat next to her son and carefully turned him so his attention was focused on her.  Green-blue eyes stared at her and she could feel her heart melting as it always did when she looked at her son.  Curly black hair flopped in his eyes as he stared at her waiting for an answer.

“Your dad is…not in a good place right now William,”  she answered as carefully as she could.  “Let’s get through this Christmas season and your birthday and if he is better, then I will see if he wants to see you.”

“Are you sure that’s wise?”  she heard Mycroft ask quietly. 

“I don’t know,”  she answered honestly.  William’s eyes narrowed as he studied his mother’s face. 

“Da owie?”

She smiled.  “Yes, baby.  Your dad has an owie.  As soon as he gets better, we’ll see what happens, yeah?”

The answer seemed to satisfy William.  He turned around in his seat and patted the table next to him. 

“Myc down.  Eat.”

Mycroft gave a significant look to Molly as he took the seat William was motioning towards.

 

* * *

 

Dinner was had, presents were opened and William was now on Mycroft’s lap, sound asleep on the man’s chest.  Dana had disappeared and it was only he, Molly and the sleeping toddler in the quiet sitting room. 

“Do you really think this is right course of action?”  Mycroft’s voice was low enough that it wouldn’t wake William but Molly could hear him perfectly.  She ran her finger across the lip of her wineglass and shrugged. 

“I don’t know.  Between Dana thinking it’s all good fun and William taking a sudden interest in it; this is the first time he’s ever asked anything like this, I honestly don’t know what to do.  Dana and Mary both think it’s a good idea that Sherlock meet William but I still have so many reservations.”

“Most of them being it’s Sherlock.”

She nodded.  “Don’t get me wrong, I will never regret my decision regarding William and I will be forever thankful that I was given the ability to have him, no matter the reasoning going through his mind when he came up with the scheme.   But, it’s Sherlock.  In the year he’s been back he’s been arrested from public intoxication, on a three day drug binge, been shot, almost died, escaped a hospital and almost died again from internal bleeding.  That’s just the times he wasn’t shot at, stabbed, punched, attacked, threatened on his regular cases.  I can’t honestly say that he would be the best thing in Will’s life right now.  But, on the other hand,”  She took a sip before putting the glass on the table.  “He’s been doing so well these last couple of months.  I mean, he has his cases, but he’s been careful, not really putting himself in between the crosshairs, as it were.”  She looked up at Mycroft.  “Do you think he’s maybe…that maybe that near death experience had put him off thinking he’d invincible?”

“Who can tell with my little brother.  All I can say is his lackadaisical attitude as of late has me wondering if he isn’t up to something.  If, and it’s a very big if, he manages to remain in his current state through the holidays and for the next couple of months leading up to Algernon’s birthday, then I would concede you revisiting this debate.  Perhaps it’s the closeness of Mary’s pregnancy that is bringing about this new attitude.”

“Perhaps.”   She looked at William.  “I can take him upstairs.”

“Not at all.  I should like to tuck him in, if you don’t mind.” 

Molly smiled and shook her head.  “Not at all, but I’ll come up for the nappy change, perhaps.”

“I would be much obliged.”  Getting a hold of the sleeping toddler, Mycroft rose to his feet.  William’s hands wrapped around Mycroft’s neck and his face burrowed against his neck. 

“Sherlock was small for his age.  I remember many a time where I would carry him to his room after he’d fallen asleep in either my room or the sitting room.”  A flash of something passed in his eyes but was soon gone.  “Algernon reminds me so much of Sherlock in these years.”

Molly followed Mycroft up the stairs and into William’s room.  The room was illuminated by one soft table light on a night stand.  Mycroft put the sleeping boy in his crib and Molly quickly and carefully changed his nappy and dropping a kiss on his forehead before stepping out of the room to allow Mycroft a moment. 

He looked down at the sleeping boy, his memories falling back to a sleeping toddler who looked much like the one now.  Back when everything was still…calm.  Before…well, everything that happened later.

“May you never be caught in the cross winds, nephew mine.”  He whispered as he stroked the baby’s curls.


	31. Chapter 31

“P’sn’ts!  Up!  Up!”

William’s excited high pitched and very loud voice echoed through the quiet house and Molly groaned as she climbed out of her bed.  She’d been having such a lovely dream too before the patter of what sounded like a tiny elephant came barrelling through the upstairs hallway.  For eleven kilos, the kid could make a huge racket when he ran through the house. 

She threw on her dressing gown and stumbled out of her bedroom nearly tripping over said toddler who was racing down the hall happily screaming.  She caught him around the middle and his scream turned into laughter.

“What’s all this noise?”

“P’sn’ts!”  he cheered.  “Down, down!” 

He adjusted himself on her hip, his arms wrapping around her neck as she walked down the stairs to the main floor.  Dana was already up and in the kitchen when Molly came in carrying William. 

“It’s half past six, monster, you couldn’t wait a bit more?”

“Nana, p’sn’ts!”  he crooned.  She shook her head. 

“I’ve put on the kettle.  Sounded like a herd of elephants up there.”

Molly grinned, putting the wiggling toddler down.  He absentmindedly hitched up his pajama bottoms as he climbed up into one of the kitchen chairs.  He stared at both women sternly, his lower lip jutting out just a touch. 

“P’sn’ts.”  He insisted firmly.  Molly returned his stern look. 

“Tea first.”  She retorted.  “I understand you’re small ball of untapped energy but Dana and I are not so you’ll wait until we both get a cuppa before present opening.”

The lower lip jutted further out in a pout but he didn’t complain.  He watched carefully as Dana poured water into two cups and both women went about fixing their cups, one leg bouncing anxiously against the chair leg.  Finally Molly picked up her cup and nodded to him. 

“Off you go.”

He almost fell out of the chair in his hurry to get down and into the sitting room where the tree stood.  Dana and Molly shared a grin as they followed.  By the time they entered, William was on his butt sitting in front of the presents looking at them both expectantly.

Molly put her cup onto the closest table and stepped ot the tree to pull out a present. 

“Have at you,”  She handed him a present and stepped back before she was caught up in the paper carnage.

 

* * *

 

Less than an hour later, all presents were open, all clothing was pushed to the side in favor of picture books and toys.  William was laying on his stomach playing with a large plastic pirate ship he’d gotten complete with a swallow resistant crew and tiny life boats and cannons.  Dana was asleep on the settee, cup of tea forgotten on the table.  Molly sat in the chair, mug in hand and watched her son playing, making soft action noises as one of the lifeboats magically flew with the first mate around the top of the ship. 

She loved him more than she thought she’d ever be able to love anything.  But her love alone wasn’t going to protect him, that’s was mostly Dana’s job right now.  He was almost two.  Time was going by faster than she wanted  and soon he’d be school age; speaking in complete sentences and going to primary.  She could only protect him for so long.  Idly she thought of Mary and how she was going to be able to juggle a new baby and her husband’s other job.  She was lucky, William was hidden and completely separate at the moment from that part of her life that Sherlock occupied.  Only a very trusted select few knew of his existence and therefore, theoretically, he couldn’t be used as a bargaining chip for some insane madman who decided that this was a good time to seek revenge on Sherlock Holmes.  Mary didn’t have the luxury;  her pregnancy was well known, well chronicled.  She and John’s daughter would be in danger, was already in danger.  Mary would need to be extra vigilant when it came to their daughter for the simple fact that she would be the daughter of John Watson.  She didn’t at all envy Mary’s position. 

“Ma?”

Molly blinked out of her thoughts.  William stood in front of her with the picture book Mary had gotten him for Christmas in his hand.  He handed it to her and she put down her mug before taking it.

“You want me to read to you darling?” she asked.  He climbed up into her lap and got comfortable.  She wrapped her arms around him, pulling the book in front of him and opened it, feeling his head come to rest on her breastbone.  No, she thought as she began to read.  She didn’t envy Mary’s position at all.

 

* * *

 

Christmas evening came and went and Molly couldn’t help but feel a bit upset.  She’d worked the overnight shift, as she always did, but this year Sherlock didn’t show up.  At all.  As she sat on the tube, she had her phone out, toying with the idea of texting him just to make sure he was all right.  She thought better of it, after all, he was at his parents for the holiday and no matter what he had said they were his parents and besides, he was with John and Mary.  They probably ended up spending the night and were heading back this morning.  

After a quick nap, the remainder of Boxing Day was spent on the couch watching animated DVD’s with William and cuddling.  He’d decided he wanted a mummy day so that’s what they did.  Molly pulled the throw over him as he slept on the couch, Planes playing in the background, and held him to her, her fingers combing his curls as he slept.  There weren’t going to be many days like this left and she was determined to enjoy every single one he was willing to give her.

“Molly,”

The tone of Dana’s voice frightened her.  She sat up on the couch, one arm holding her sleeping son to her protectively as she stared at Dana’s serious face. 

“What?  What is it?” 

Silently, Dana handed over her tablet.  Molly took it, reading the article title on the screen.

 

**Media Mogul Charles A. Magnussen found murdered in his home.**

 

Her blood went cold and she looked up at Dana with eyes wide. 

“Have you heard anything?”  she asked, her voice pitched low so not to wake William.  Dana shook her head. 

“Nothing.” 

Molly dropped a kiss on William’s head and carefully slid out from behind him on the couch, leaving him to complete his nap alone. 

“Where’s my phone.”  She headed towards the kitchen.  Dana followed her.

“Molly,”

“Dana, where’s my phone?”  she grabbed her purse and began rooting through it.  “I have to know, Dana.  I have to know what happened, if he’s all right.  I can’t…” 

Her voice broke and Dana took the two steps to her, pulling her into her arms.  Molly held on to her arm, the tears streaming down her face. 

“He does this, he always does this,”  she sobbed.  “You think I’d be used to it by now, but I never am, he always manages to throw me ‘round the bend with his schemes.”

“We don’t know it was Sherlock,”  Dana insisted, her voice low and near Molly’s ear. 

“Don’t we?  Who’s been in a battle of will with this man for almost a year now?  And suddenly he’s found dead?  On Christmas?  There has to be a reason, I need to know if everyone’s all right.”

“All right, all right.”  Dana let her go with one hand and reached over to pick up the mobile sitting behind the teapot on the counter.  She handed it to Molly.  “I’ll go sit in the living room with William  while you make your calls, just in case he wakes up.”

Molly swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand as Dana fully let her go.   “Thank you Dana.”

Alone in the kitchen now, she stared at her mobile.  She couldn’t call Mycroft, if it did involve Sherlock he would be up to his elbows in trying to fix it before it turned into an even bigger mess.  John was right out, he wouldn’t tell her anything except what she thought she already knew;  yes, Sherlock cocked it up again, no he had no idea what was going on but he’d let her know the moment he found out anything.  The problem was, with John, the moment he found out usually meant three days after he’d actually found out anything.  She loved him but he was shit when it came to updating anyone on anything. 

She dialed her mobile and waited.  It rang five times and she was afraid the voice mail was about to kick in when it was picked up.

“Hello?” 

Mary’s voice was perky, not at all what she expected. 

“Mary, it’s Molly.”

“Yes Karen, I know it’s you.”  She answered and Molly frowned.  “You do know Clinic isn’t open today.”

Molly opened her mouth to say something when it clicked what Mary was doing.  She was somewhere where she couldn’t talk openly. 

“Is everything okay?  Are you and John well?”

“Well, yes.  You’ve just interrupted a bit of a lie in, you know, because Clinic isn’t open today.”

She signed in relief;  that meant she and John were fine.  She wasn’t sure when exactly she’d caught on to obscure phone conversations, but needs must. 

“Is Sherlock okay?”

“Ah, there’s the sticky bit.”

“He’s unhurt?”

“If you want to call it that, yeah.”

She could hear John on the other end.  “Mary, who was stupid enough to come to Clinic today?”

“You know Karen.”  She heard Mary answer.  “She’s stuck there now without a ride.  We might have to pop by in a bit and get her home.”

Molly understood exactly what Mary was saying to her.  “Tell me when.”

“John, she wants to stay till three and finish paperwork.”  Mary told John. 

“Well tell her we’re not paying her for this.  It’s holiday and she should’ve have come in in the first place.”

“Darling, you know Karen’s not top in her class in the first place.”  Mary came back on the phone.  “Karen, we’ll be there about three to help you lock up.  Be a luv and don’t touch the top copies, yeah?”

She disconnected the call and glanced at the small clock on the wall.  Half past one.  She could get a cab and be at the Clinic the Watson’s worked at by fifteen till three.  Then it was just uncomfortably waiting until one of them showed up.  Her phone buzzed and she glanced down at the text message.

**21-5-6-69**

 

The message was from Mary but she was clueless as to what it meant.  Grabbing her bag, she walked out of the kitchen.  Dana was sitting in the living room on the other side of the couch, a sleeping toddler curled up next to her.

“I’m going out for a bit.” 

She craned her neck back to frown at Molly.  “Everything all right?”

“Don’t know.  Mary is going to meet me at the Clinic.  If anyone calls for me, I’m out for a walk or napping, please.”

They both knew who Molly was talking about when she said anyone.  Dana nodded.  “You’ll be back in time for dinner, yeah?”

“More than likely.  I’m hoping it won’t take longer than a half an hour.”

“Be careful.”

She nodded before running upstairs to pull on some comfy clothes.

* * *

 

The cab pulled up in front of the Clinic at ten till three.  Molly paid the driver and stepped out onto the empty sidewalk, glancing around nervously.  It was Boxing Day and a single person hanging around an empty clinic might look a bit suspicious.   As she stepped towards the door, she realized why Mary had sent her the list of numbers.  The front door wasn’t key locked, it was locked with a key code.  She pulled out her phone again and entered in the numbers Mary had sent her.  The door unlocked and Molly slipped inside.

The inside was dark , quiet and warmer than it was outside.  She took a seat, unwilling to turn on any lights and glanced at her mobile again.  She hadn’t had to wait long before she heard the lock release on the front door again and Mary slip in.  The door was barely closed behind her when the blonde woman hurried towards her, as fast as she could almost nine month’s pregnant, and pulled her into a hug. 

“I’m so sorry for that,”  she said.  “We were trapped in a room for almost twelve hours and I was stuck in bed for half that, bored out of my mind while they made sure the drugs wouldn’t hurt the baby.  I told them it was a mild sleeping drought, nothing that would hurt me, but they wouldn’t believe me.”

Molly pulled away from the woman, grabbing hold of her upper arms and looking her over.  “What?  What?  You were drugged?  Are you all right?”

Mary waved her concern off.  “I’m fine, Sherlock wouldn’t have given me anything to hurt me.”

“Sherlock drugged you?”  She knew her voice was raising but she didn’t care.   The door opened again and John slipped in. 

“Everything all right?”  His gaze slid between the two women. Mary turned slightly to smile at him. 

“Just trying to catch Molly up.”

“Do it quickly,”  he glanced out the window.  “We’re not going to have much time before they figure out we’re doing something other than taking an imaginary co-worker home.”

Mary nodded.  “I’ll give her the short version.  Go pick up that bottle and we’ll be off in a tick.”

She waited until John slipped into the second office before rolling through. 

“No interruptions, we’ve not a lot of time.  Sherlock drugged us all; parents, me, Mycroft, he and John went to see Magnusson, took Mycroft’s laptop in an attempt to stop the man.  He failed miserably, of course, that reptile one upped him.  I don’t know all the particulars that happened afterwards- John wouldn’t tell me, but I think Sherlock shot the man close range.”

Molly went pale, tears springing to her eyes but she kept quiet.

“We were all hurried to Vauxhall where John and I have just been released.  But Sherlock is still there.  And I’m sorry Molly, but I’ve no idea what’s going to happen.”

Molly just stared at Mary.  She heard what the woman had said, had even understood the words but none of it was making sense.  She knew Sherlock had killed before, assumed it had happened during this two year exile while tearing down Moriarty’s empire.  He’d told her before that he was not a good man, but…

Part of her, the small part she never admitted to herself and hardly ever acknowledged, was glad Magnussen was dead.  Sherlock didn’t kill superfluously, if the man was dead, then there was a reason.  But, it was considered murder.  He’d murdered someone in cold blood, close range.  It didn’t matter his reasons, all that mattered was he’d done it.  And she wasn’t sure if Mycroft would be able to get him out of it this time. 

“Molly?  Oh God, Mary get a blanket, I think she’s in shock.”

She blinked, turning her head to look at John.  She felt as if she was underwater, her limbs heavy and lethargic.  She wanted to go home. 

She felt a warmth over her shoulders and she blinked again.  John was standing in front of her with a light, snapping his fingers. 

“Molly?  Can you hear me?”

She blinked again and looked over at Mary who was watching her worriedly. 

“Mary.  I need to go home.”

“Of course luv.  We can share a cab, drop you off.”

She just wanted to go home, crawl back onto the couch with her son and stay there for the rest of the day.  Pretend she never left the couch. 

“I need to go home, I need Wi-“

“Darling, we’ll get you home,”  Mary interrupted.  “Dana’s there, yeah?”

Molly nodded absently, belatedly remembering John was in the room. 

“Who’s Dana?”  she heard him ask as she felt someone move her towards the door. 

“Molly’s roommate.  Came to stay with her after the whole business with Tom.”  Mary explained. 

There was a cab outside when she stepped out into the biting winds.  Mary tugged the blanket tighter around her shoulders and held onto her as John relocked the Clinic.  She tucked Molly into the cab and slid in next to her.  A moment later John slid in and shut the door.  He looked at Mary who leaned forward to tell the driver Molly’s address before leaning back and wrapping an arm around her. 

Molly leaned against Mary’s shoulder, half listening to the couple talking quietly.  She overheard her name several times. 

I thought she had a flat in the city?”  She heard John ask quietly.

“She was living with Tom for almost two years John,”  Mary answered.  “You can’t have expected her to keep the same flat.  Especially since we now know it was a bolt hole.”

She closed her eyes, ignoring the tears leaking from them and let the taxi carry her home.


	32. Chapter 32

It was late when her phone buzzed. 

John and Mary had dropped Molly off at her house, Mary climbing out to help Molly to the front door.  Dana had opened the front door and stepped out, growing worried when she saw Molly with the blanket wrapped around her shoulder and her pale face. 

“She might be a bit in shock,” Mary said before returning to the taxi.  Dana had gotten her into the house and sat her on the couch before murmuring that she was going to fix her some tea.  William had looked up sleepily at his mother before climbing to his knees and crawling into her lap. 

With her arms around her son, she cried, holding him close as he absently patted her arm and buried his face against her chest, knowing his mommy was hurting but not understanding exactly what he could do about it.  They stayed that way the rest of the evening; Dana ordering takeaway and sitting on the couch next to Molly, William in her lap, the three of them watching cartoon movies until it was time to go to bed.

She didn’t worry about baths, or new jammies.  She changed his nappy and he gave her a huge wet kiss on her cheek before tucking off to bed, his arm wrapped around his dog. 

“Goodnight my sweet boy.”  She whispered fondly.  “I love you.”

“’Ov you,”  he murmured sleepily and she smiled as she blinked back tears. 

She was in bed, desperately trying to go to sleep when her phone buzzed.  She was exhausted yet sleep refused to come.  Sighing, she reached over to pick up her phone.

 

**You awake?  SH**

**I need to talk to you. SH**

 

She blinked back tears and typed out a response.

 

**Call me. Mx**

 

Her phone buzzed again almost immediately after she’d sent the text and she swiped the accept button. 

“Are you all right?”

“Yes I’m fine but I need to talk to you.”

She frowned, sitting up in her bed.  “What’s wrong?  Did you really kill him?  They aren’t sending you to jail, are they?  That man, I don’t know much about him but he wasn’t nice.  You wouldn’t just kill a man for no reason, there’s always a reason.”

“Molly please,”  his voice was desperate on the phone and she clamped her mouth shut.  “I did it to save Mary.  I’d do it again if it meant saving her, I have no regrets on that front.”

It was ridiculous how quickly her mind compartmentalized his explanation and agreed with him.  “No, of course not, I wouldn’t either.”  She swallowed thickly, feeling tears burning her eyes once more.  “Sherlock…”

“I have to go away again.”  He said.  She choked back a quiet sob, feeling the tears slide down her face.  “It’s only for a little while, until everything dies down here.”

She swallowed again, trying to keep her voice steady.  It wouldn’t do for him to hear her crying, although he could probably already tell simply by the change of her breathing. 

“How long?”

“About six months.”  She could hear the change in his voice and she bit her lip hard.  “It’ll be fine Molly.”

She nodded, realizing he couldn’t see her.  On the other end, she heard him give an almost desperate laugh. 

“I can hear you nodding Molly.”

She gave a quiet tear filled laugh of her own.  He sighed. 

“No tears Molly Hooper, you’re supposed the be the rational one.”

“Not always.”  She whispered. 

He was quiet for a moment. 

“Do you…do you remember the gift I gave you after I left the first time?”  His voice was quieter and she found her own breath hitching to silence, the phone pushed a little closer to her ear.

“Yes.” 

She wasn’t sure what he was going to ask, going to say and she found herself a bit hesitant at what would happen next. 

“I want you to use it.  Please, for me.”  He was saying and she honestly couldn’t breathe now.  “If you still have the card and the key, please, use them.  You don’t have to worry about anything, everything has been taken care of, just…please Molly.”

Her eyes slid towards the wall of her bedroom she knew was adjacent to William’s room.  The reality of what he was asking hit her.  He wasn’t expecting to come back from this.  That was why he was telling her to use his gift; it wasn’t because he wanted it unused or even that he knew she’d already used it.  He wasn’t expecting to return from this trip and this was his way of ensuring he was always with her.  Her breath released in on long breath and she found herself suddenly unable to breathe. 

“Sherlock…what’s going to happen?”

“Shhhh, Molly.  I can’t…Can we just talk?  About nothing in particular?  Just tonight?  I don’t…I don’t have much time left before I have to meet with Mycroft and I just want to spend what time I do have left talking with you?  Please?”

She bit back a sob and wiped her eyes with her free hand. 

“Yeah, yeah, I can do that.  Tell me about the first case you ever solved.  I’ve always been curious how you started this entire thing.”

 

* * *

 

She awoke with scratchy eyes and lethargic.  Sherlock had stayed on the phone with her until a little after one am making, of all things, small talk.  Finally he was forced to end the call. 

_“Times up, the prison guards are coming.”_

_Her heart clenched and she gripped her phone tightly.  “I don’t want you to.”  She whispered._

_“I don’t want to.”  He admitted.  “But it’s time to pay the piper and pay I must.  Remember what we talked about Molly.”_

_“Okay.”_

_“You are so very important Molly Hooper.  I fear you’ll never understand how much you matter. Good night Molly Hooper.”_

_The line went silent and she sat in her bed crying._

“You all right?”  Dana asked as she stepped into the kitchen.  At the table, William turned around and watched his mother with a narrowed gaze while still munching on a waffle.  Molly nodded her head as she poured a cup of coffee for herself. 

“Just didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Ma,”  William held up his stuffed dog towards her.  Her heart melted and she walked over to him and took the dog from his grasp.  She held it to her chest, giving it a squeeze and kissing it’s furry head before handing it back to her son. 

“Thank you darling, that was just what I needed.”  He stood up in the chair and held out his arms.  She picked him up and gave him a tight hug, kissing his cheeks as he giggled and tried to move away.  “Instant cure for the morning grumpies.  I should get off early today, what say when I come home, if it’s nice, we’ll go out and feed the ducks?”

William grinned excitedly as she plopped him back down in his seat.  “Ducks!”

“Why is it he can say ducks but he can’t say Dana?” 

Molly grinned at her friend.  “Because Nana is now a term of endearment, sort of like Ma.  I fear you’re stuck as Nana for the time being.”  She picked up her mug and took a few more drinks.   “I’ll be home early today.”

“’iss!”  William insisted and she bent down as she passed allowing him to drop a syrup coated kiss on her cheek.  “’ov you.”

“Love you too my darling boy.  See you tonight.”

 

* * *

 

Exactly three hours after she left the house for work, her world crumbled to pieces around her. 


	33. Chapter 33

**_“Did you miss me?”_ **

Her coffee cup fell out of nerveless fingers, crashing to the tile floor and spilling into a puddle at her feet as she cried out, a hand covering her mouth as terrified eyes  were fixed on the image of a man on her screen. 

He was dead.  He was dead, she’d read the autopsy, seen the body herself.  The entire back of his head had been blown off.  Nobody survived that.  Not even zombies survived that.  He had no brains and what little were still rattling around in his open cranium had been reduced to the consistency of pudding.

He was dead.  But if she was dead, then who was on the screen repeating  “Did you miss me?”  Someone set for revenge and using Moriarty as a lynchpin?  A secret brother?  A twin?

_It’s never twins._

Was she in danger?  Her heart pounded against her chest.  She felt rooted in that spot, staring at the figure on the screen that just kept repeating those four words over and over again. 

The ringing of her mobile broke through the tension and a scream tore from her lips.  Pulling her eyes from the screen- that phrase would haunt her nightmares for weeks- she scrambled in her pockets for her mobile, relieved when she saw it was Mycroft’s number. 

“Mycroft, what is happening?”  She got out before he interrupted her.

“Stay where you are.  No, in fact, go to your office, lock the door, turn off the lights and remain there.  I have someone on their way for you.  Do not leave until they arrive.”

The mobile went dead and she looked at it for a beat before spinning on her heels and racing for her office.  She slammed the door shut, locked it, pushed a chair in front of it for good measure and shut off the lights.  She scrambled underneath her desk, her back against the wood as her body shook in terror.  With shaking fingers, she dial Dana’s number.  The mobile rang twice before it went straight to voicemail.  She was about to try again when her mobile vibrated indicating she’d received a message.  She looked at Dana’s number, her heart clenching in her chest and then clicked on the message.

 

**Abu Dhabi**

 

Another sob ripped from her throat, her hand slapping over her mouth as she stared at the message.  It was the code word that meant there was danger and Dana had taken William to safety.  Her mobile would be turned off and she would be in the wind by now.  Her son was gone, taken away from his home and into safety because some insane madman threatened his mother and possibly him.  As of this moment, she had not the slightest idea where her son was.  No one did.  Dana’s training and background was especially well suited for just this situation.  William would be safe until Mycroft called her back in but until he did, Molly would have no idea where her son was or when he would be able to come home.

Hand still over her mouth to hide any noises, Molly sobbed brokenheartedly. 

 

* * *

 

 

She sat in the dark for a long time before the hard rap against her office door startled her from her daze.  She jumped, almost hitting her head on the bottom of the desk. 

The knock came again, followed by a rough voice she knew. 

“Molly, it’s me.  Open up.”

Scrambling to her feet, she hurried to the door pulling the chair from it and peering at the silhouette on the other side of the frosted glass.  Sherlock’s silhouette stood impatiently on the other side of her office door.  Her fingers trembled as she unlocked the door and pulled it open.  The man in the coat hurried into her office, shutting the door behind him.  She stared up at him as he turned on the light, barely believing that he would come and fetch her and terrified that she wouldn’t be able to hide her anguish until he allowed her to leave.   

The light clicked on and she blinked against the brightness before looking up at the man. 

“Tom!”

She fell against him, relief almost a palpable being in her.  His arms wrapped around her, pulling her to him. 

“Shhh, I’ve been sent to get you.  We have to get you out of here and back to your house.  Stamford had already been apprised of the situation.”

“I thought you were him,”  she cried against his chest.  “You look so much like him.”

“That’s rather the point Molly.”  He explained.  “It’s supposed to look as if Sherlock Holmes strode in here to retrieve you himself.”

She looked up at him, really seeing him for the first time since he stepped into her office.  His hair was a carefully coiffed dyed mess of black curls, the belstaf and dark suit under combined with his height and demeanor all but screamed Sherlock Holmes.  Only if one looked at the face closely would one see that it wasn’t.  But nobody ever really looked closely at Sherlock Holmes, they rather just tried to stay out of his way.

“There’s a car waiting outside.  Collect your jacket and bag, I’m going to tuck you under my arm, you’ll keep your face buried against my chest and we’re going to get you out of Barts.  No one’s going to stop us.  Okay?”

“William’s gone, Tom,”  she could feel the tears in her eyes and swiped at them uselessly.  “Dana’s taken him to a safe place, but he’s gone Tom.”

The stony look he’d adapted melted for a moment to a more compassionate gaze.  His hands came up to cup her face. 

“I know darling, and you are more than welcome to collapse once we get you home, but I need you to stay strong for just a while longer.”

She nodded. 

“There’s my girl.  Okay, get your things and we’ll get you home.”

She slipped on her coat and grabbed her bag. 

“Ready?”

She nodded.  He straightened to his full height, the stone face determination sliding back on his face as he tucked her under his arm, pulled the door open and strode out of the office.

He was right, she thought as they hurried through the main lobby of Barts towards the outside doors, people moved out of his way, noticing the hair, suit and coat and assuming he was Sherlock.  They walked outside and he let go of her long enough to nudge her into the sleek black car waiting.  The door closed and Tom’s arm was around her again, tugging her towards him and offering her comfort. 

“Relax darling, we’ll be home soon.”

 

* * *

 

Mary watched helplessly as John and Mycroft huddled over the spasming man on the gurney.

“What was that you were saying about being in control?”  John asked bitterly.  The man on the gurney gasped out, almost choking on his own tongue.  Mary pulled out her phone, skimming through messages.  She couldn’t do anything here and honestly she was tired of being at Vauxhall so much in almost a forty-eight hour period. 

With one last look at the man now shivering, she pocketed her phone and turned around. 

“Mary.”

She looked back.  John was looking over his shoulder at her worriedly.  She gave him a tight smile. 

“I can’t do anything here but get in the way.  I need to check on Molly.”

He nodded.  “Take one of the cars.”

She nodded her consent and hurried out of the medical unit.  Striding down the hallway, she caught the closest suited agent she could find as she walked towards the exit of the complex. 

“I need a car and an assist.”

The man nodded, turning on his heels and following her towards the door.

“Where are we going Miss?”

“St. Bartholomew’s.”

 

* * *

 

The car ride was quick, making it to Barts within minutes of leaving Vauxhall.  Mary and her backup; Ian, she’d discovered, strode through the lobby, heading towards the elevators when the doors opened and  Mike Stamford stepped out. 

“Mary,”  he greeted her even as he glanced behind her at the man.  “Is everything okay?”

“Hi Mike, yeah I was just going to see Molly.” 

Mike frowned.  “She left about thirty minutes ago.  Wilson said Sherlock came by and picked her up.  Should she have not gone with him?”  he asked noticing Mary’s look.  “Mr. Holmes called not long before that telling me she was being picked up and to not put her on the schedule for a couple of days.  This has to do about the thing on the screens, yeah?”

“Yeah, no, it’s fine Mike.  I just wasn’t expecting Sherlock to come pick her up.  Thanks.  I’ll have John call you as soon as we get this all sorted out.”

Spinning on her heels, she hurried back towards the car, Ian following closely behind.  Her phone was in her hands before she was in the car and she was texting John. 

 

**Sherlock is still there with you right? MW**

**Still here.  The doctor’s just shoved charcoal down his throat so he is currently vomiting his guts out in a bucket.  Have to say, it’s a little cathartic to watch. JW**

**Why do you ask? JW**

**Just checking.  You know how he loves to escape. MW**

**He isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.  How’s Molly? JW**

**Someone took her home.  I’m checking up on her before I come back. MW**

 

“Miss?”  Ian asked.  “Where are we going?”

“Ealing.”  She struggled to lean forward.  “Head out to Ealing.  I need to get to Doctor Hooper’s flat.”

 

* * *

 

The car pulled up to the brick flat and Ian hurried out of the car to rush around and open Mary’s door before she was able to fully maneuver her way to the opening.  She took the agent’s hand with an annoyed glare. 

“I’m not completely unable to move quite yet.  But thank you for the assist.”

“We’ll be out here waiting Miss.”  He leaned against the side of the car to prove his point.  Mary hurried up the walk to know on the front door, hoping that Molly was there.  She heard the lock click and the door open. 

“Hey Tom.”

The taller man grinned at Mary and opened the door a bit further in order to let her in.  She slid past him and into the house. 

“Hello Mary, who told you I was here?”

“I went to the hospital to check on Molly and Stamford told me Sherlock had already come to pick her up.  Since I have it on good authority where exactly Sherlock has been for the last hour, I knew it couldn’t have been him.  So who else would Mycroft send to pick up Molly that she would feel safe with?”

He spread his hands out in supplication, the grin still on his face.  Mary took off her coat, looking around the quiet house. 

“Where’s Dana and Will?”

“Ah, there’s the problem.  Even the hint of Moriarty being back meant that Molly was automatically listed as a potential target.  With her being in danger, it meant that William would also be in danger.  To keep him safe, Dana has taken him to a safe house.  Nobody but Dana knows where she and Will are.”

Mary winced, her hands covering her stomach in sympathy.  To have one’s child taken from them, even for their own protection.  Molly had no idea where her son was nor when he would be returning.  It was all contingent on this current threat being dealt with.  Which, as she left the only person who could deal with it in the midst of coming off of an accidental OD, could be quite a while. 

“How is she?”

“A mess, as one can expect.  The boss wants to me stick around for a couple of days until he can get the situation under control.  She’s currently laying down on the couch if you want to see her.  Just…”  he wrinkled his nose.  “Be gentle with her.  She’d cracked into tiny pieces and I’ve no idea how to put her together if she truly breaks.”

Mary nodded, throwing him a grin as she passed him.  “I think I like you much better this way Tom.”

A lopsided grin came with a scratch to the side of his head.  “I was playing adorably dorky in public.  I was only supposed to look like him, not completely act like him.”

She headed towards the sitting room, spotting the lump on the couch as well as the large pirate ship still sitting in the middle of the room.  It looked as if they just up and left in a hurry.  Carefully, she sat on the side of the couch, putting a hand on Molly’s covered legs.  The woman lay on the couch, a throw over her body, eyes open staring at the toys in the room. 

“Molly?”

The cover moved and Molly looked towards her.  Mary winced as she saw the woman for the first time that day.  Her eyes were swollen and red from almost a whole day of crying, her hair was half out of the ponytail, her nose was red, her face blotchy.  She looked miserable and Mary’s heart went out to her. 

“Oh, my luv.”  She rubbed Molly’s leg.  Tom walked back into the room, a tray with three mugs on it as well as a plate of biscuits. 

“I’ve brought tea.”  He placed the tray down and handed Mary a mug.  She took it gratefully and watched as he lifted Molly up enough to sit down on the other side and gently maneuver her so her head was laying on his lap.  Her hand moved enough to rest on his lap and he stroked her hair.  “Molly darling, you have to take something.”

Molly sniffed, her eyes turning back towards Mary. 

“Is he okay?”  her voice was cracked and house.  “He’s home, right?  Mycroft didn’t send him off.”

Mary frowned.  “Molls, he really is the last person you need to be worried about right now.”

“You don’t understand,”  her voice had almost a hysterical tint to it.  “He has to come home, he’s the only one who can take care of this.  If this person isn’t caught, then Will-“  her voice cracked.  “William can’t come home.”

“He’s home.”  Mary hurried to soothe, not even bothering to mention that he was currently in detox.  “He’s fine, he’ll figure this out.  Just…it’ll be okay Molly, you’ll see.  It might not be tomorrow but William is safe with Dana and he’ll be home soon.  Sherlock will figure this out like he always does and William will come home.”

She nodded and relaxed against Tom’s lap, her breathing slowing.  Mary waited a bit to make sure the woman had truly fallen asleep before looking over at Tom. 

“Are you sure you’re the proper person to be here with her?”

“First, she is on protection detail and who else has the ability to do that?  You’re ready to go any day and nobody else really knows about William.   Second, I promise I have no nefarious plots to take advantage of an emotionally distraught woman merely because I currently resemble a man she’s helplessly in love with.  I prefer my woman in their right mind and physically attracted to me.  I’m a specially trained agent, not a psychopath.  Lastly, I am only here for another day or two.  Trust me, I willingly admit this isn’t going to be my favorite assignment, but the boss needed someone on short notice that she would trust, and I happened to be in between missions.  It’s not ideal but it works.”  He looked down at the sleeping woman and tucked the throw up over her shoulders.  “I like her, I always did. We might not have been sexually attracted to each other, but if there’s one thing I learned about her during our time together it’s that she is an angel who has always taken care of everyone else no matter the cost to her.  It is no hardship to spend two or three days with her taking care of her for a change.”


	34. Chapter 34

Molly woke up the next morning feeling like she was hungover, without the fun part the previous evening.  Her head was pounding, her eyes were red and swollen, her throat felt like sandpaper.  She sat up in her bed, looking around the room in confusion as to how she got there.  She stumbled out of bed, feeling around for her phone and dressing gown simultaneously.  She switched on her phone, one arm in her dressing gown as she left her room, frowning at the date on her phone.  She struggled with the second arm as she stumbled down the stairs and her phone started vibrating from missed messages due to her phone being off.

She was still trying to figure out how she missed entire day as she stepped into the kitchen. 

“Dana?”  she croaked, wincing at how rough her voice sounded.  She glanced up from her phone and froze at the sight of the tall man in her kitchen wearing sweats and a tee shirt making toast.  He turned his head to look at her and give her a tentative smile. 

“Morning Molly.”

The previous day’s events slammed back into memory with a force that caused her to lose her breath and she stumbled backward.  Tom was moving before she even gasped seeing the wide eyed panicked look in her eyes. 

“Molly, Molly luv breathe.  Darling you need to calm down.”

He was at her side, slipping her phone from her suddenly nerveless fingers and pulling her to his chest in a tight hug.  She gasped huge breaths, never quite managing to get enough air into her lungs as she clutched at his shirt, her cheek pressed to his chest.  His hands were pressed to her back and head, holding her and making shushing noises.    
“Breathe Molly.  Deep slow breathes.  You need to calm down.  As soon as you calm down, we’ll sit down and have some breakfast and talk about what’s happened, okay?”

She closed her eyes, took deep slow breaths and tried not to think about anything.  She felt her heart slow, stop pounding hard against her chest, her breathing regulate, her lungs stop hurting from lack of oxygen.  She took a slow deep breath and let it out again, forcing herself to be calm. 

Her son was gone.  Dana had taken him somewhere safe until this Moriarty problem could be solved.  Moriarity was dead, she knew that much with certainty, therefore someone was using his likeness to cause a panic.   As soon as Sherlock discovered who it was and stopped them, then William and Dana could come back. Which meant she was going to have to do quite an amount of support work which meant she didn’t have time to have panic attacks. 

Taking another deep breath in and out she finally pulled away from Tom enough to look up at him. 

“Okay.  I’m okay.”

He looked at her unconvinced.  “Molly, it’s okay to be upset.  Nobody would blame you if you were.”

She gave him a smile that she knew didn’t quite reach her eyes.  “I know.  But honestly, other than you, Mary and Mycroft, who really knows about William?  Everyone else only sees that I might be a little panicked because my dead, psychopath ex-boyfriend suddenly appeared all over every screen in London.”

He led her to the island and sat her down on one of the stools, placing a mug of hot tea in front of her. 

“Drink.  I’ll make you some breakfast.”

She wrapped her hands around the mug, soaking in the warmth. 

“Tom?”

“Hmmm?”

“Not that I’m not…glad you’re here but…”

“Why am I here?” 

She nodded.  He plated a couple of pieces of toast with marmalade and placed it in front of her. 

“I was in between missions when the thing happened yesterday.  Mycroft texted me with instructions that I was to collect you immediately looking like his brother and bring you here.   I’m staying until tomorrow where I will get a new assignment and Mycroft, I suppose, will be here or send someone he trusts to explain to you what happened.”  He picked up his own mug and took a drink.  “Mary stopped by yesterday, she was so worried about you.”

Molly frowned, vaguely remembering seeing Mary.  “I’ll have to call her later to apologize.”

“Molly,” Tom chuckled.  “I absolutely forbid you apologize to anyone.  If anything, people should be apologizing to you.  You can’t keep being everything to everyone darling, you’re going to collapse.”

“If it gets William home sooner, I will be everything to everyone as long as I can manage.”  She took a sip of her tea and held out her hand.  “Now, phone?”

He slid the phone across the counter.  “Your boss knows you’re on protection detail for the next day or two, he’s taken you off the schedule per Mycroft’s instruction.  Your only concern for the next two days is to eat and gather your strength.”

She took her phone.  “Thank you Tom.  For everything.”  She studied his hair.  “You darkened your hair.”

“It was already dark.  I was impersonating him for an issue out of country so I already had most of the stuff I needed when I got this call.   But,” he smirked.  “If I could bother you, I need to lightened my hair while I’m here for the next mission.  I already have the items I need.”

She grinned as she swiped her phone.  “We can do that this afternoon.”

“You’re an angel Molly.”

She had sixteen text messaged and seven missed calls.  The calls were from Mike, Lestrade and Mary.  The messages were from almost everyone else.

 

**Tried calling.  Call me to let me know you’re safe. GL**

**Left message for you.  Your shift covered until Saturday. MS**

**Molly, please call/text me so I know you’re ok. GL**

**Called Greg, he knows you’re ok. MW**

**Mary called.  Told me you’re ok & safe.  Call when you can GL**

**Visited yesterday. Not sure if you remember or not.  Call me MW**

**Molly, are you ok?  Mary said yes, but want to make sure. JW**

**Stay home.  Will contact you within a day or two with update. MH**

**Let me know if there is anything you need. AS**

**Tell me you’re safe SH**

**Molly?  SH**

**Molly, this is really not the time to be ignoring my text  SH**

**I know you aren’t at Barts  SH**

**I will make Lestrade find you  SH**

**Took S phone. He knows you’re safe. Sorry about that.  MW**

**Call when you are up to it.  MW**

 

She took a bite of toast, listened to her messages and began answering almost everyone’s texts as Tom cleaned up.

 

**Greg, sorry yesterday was a blur.  Home, safe, here until further notice. Mx**

**Thank you Mike.  Sorry for the bother!  Mx**

**John, yes home safe.  Sorry to worry you. Mx**

**Mary, sorry about last night.  I’d love company if you’re up to it. Better.  Mx**

**Do you still have his phone?  Nevermind. Mx**

**I’m home.  I’m safe.  Mx**

 

She finished her toast and picked up her mug, draining it.

“More tea?”

She slid her mug across the counter as her phone pinged a response from someone. 

“This is quite the domestic.”

He grinned.  “Isn’t it though? Just think, this could’ve been us had you not broken off the engagement.”  He teased.  She returned his grin albeit shakily. 

“You mean in between your secret James Bond missions?” 

She checked her phone as he poured her another cup.

 

**Be there this afternoon!  MW**

 

She took the mug with a nod of thanks and slid off of the stool. 

“Mary might stop by this afternoon.”

“Good. If she does, I can run to the market for a couple of things.”

She wandered into the sitting room, stopping when she saw the entire room.

“Tom?”

“Yeah?”

Where’s all the stuff?”

He walked into the room behind her, looking around the now spotless sitting room. 

“I might have cleaned a bit.  Please don’t get mad, I put all of William’s things in his room.  It made sense to clean the sitting room, not only for your mental health at the moment, but if anyone does find you in the future and stops by, there’s no indication of anyone else but you living here at the moment.  I did the same with Dana’s things that were laying around.”

She took another deep breath and nodded slowly. 

“You’re right.  Thank you for thinking of that.”

He ran a hand over her shoulder before returning to the kitchen.

 

* * *

 

Mycroft stopped by the next evening.  Tom answered the door, reddish blond hair styled differently, wearing a completely different outfit and not at all looking like the man he was impersonating two days prior.  He nodded to Mycroft, picked up his bag and kissed Molly goodbye. 

“Be careful,” she told him.  “And thank you for everything.”

“Always Molly.”

Mycroft watched the man climb into the car waiting for him before closing the door and turning his sharp gaze to Molly. 

“Tea?”  she asked. 

He nodded and followed her into the kitchen.  “How are you?”

“Better, thank you.”  She put on the kettle pulled out a couple of cups as he seated himself at the table.  “What can you tell me about the last couple of days?”

“Not everything.  We still don’t know who did the videos.  My brother is insistent that Moriarty is dead.”

“I saw the body, I have to agree with him.” 

He gave a sharp nod.  “Barring Moriarty, we currently have no leads.  Unfortunately, we cannot write this off as an elaborate prank so until we discover who is behind this…”

“William and Dana have to stay hidden, I understand.”

She poured water into two cups and pulled a package of biscuits from the cabinet and placed them on the table.  He took one of the cups with a nod of thanks.

“I am…sorry.”  He said.  “I cannot imagine what you are going through although Mary has given me a slight indication.  I…miss Algernon, but this is for his safety.”

“I know.  Doesn’t mean I don’t feel as if I’m missing a piece of my heart.”

“There’s more you should know.  My brother knew that the trip he had been sent on more than likely would’ve been a one-way trip, so he decided to try to leave on his own terms.”

Molly’s fingers gripped the cup, knowing where Mycroft was going.

“After the video, the plan was rerouted.  By the time they’d taken off, he’d already managed to take an almost deadly cocktail of opiates and barbiturates.”

“Is he okay?”

“He overdosed.  It was touch and go for a bit.  We got him to a hospital, he went into convulsions twice, almost died once.  The doctor’s got most of the drugs from his system, managed to counteract the others.  He spent the whole of yesterday on IV’s tied to the bed while he detoxed.  Most of the drugs are passed through his system.”

“Has Mary given him back his phone yet?”

Mycroft’s expression wrinkled.  “Unfortunately, yes.  He’s been on it manically for the last couple of hours.”

“What about Magnassen?”

“It’s being taken care of.”

She nodded absently.  Her gaze sharpened and she looked back at the man.  “You tell him to fix this Mycroft.  You’ll see him long before I will, I’m sure.  Tell him to solve this, whatever it takes, as soon as possible.”

He inclined his head.  “Normally, I would comply with your wishes on this matter, however, perhaps now would be the time to explain to him what exactly is at stake?”

She shook her head.  “No.  I want his full concentration on stopping this.  Besides, Mary’s due any time now.  He’s going to have his hands full with John and Mary being new parents and not being around enough to satisfy him.”  She gave a dry smirk.   “If I remember anything about those first weeks it’s that they are never going to be getting enough sleep.  Especially with taking care of two children.”

A slight lifting of his lips was the only smile she received.  He reached into his coat pocket, pulled out a small phone and slid it across the table to her.  She picked it up and studied it, her eyes flicking from the phone to him. 

“Is this…is this a burner?”

“There is no SIM card in that phone, no GPS, no tracking. Only one person has that number and it will be the only phone they contact you on.  I would not be completely heartless, Molly, and force you to not have any contact with Algernon.  Dana is well trained, she’ll keep him safe, but the comfort of hearing that for yourself is more than even I can attempt to convince you.  Not that you aren’t trustworthy, but we thought it best that the conversations only originate from one source.”

She clutched the phone to her as if it were a lifeline.  “No.  I understand.  I’m not sure I could trust myself to not call on the daily.  This is more than I thought I had this morning.  Thank you, Mycroft.”

He inclined his head and finished his tea. 

“Call me if you need anything Molly.  I am insistent on that.  If I can’t provide you with what you need, Anthea can.”

She smiled her thanks as he stood up.  “Thank you, Mycroft.  For everything.”

“Do let me know when my brother finally attempts to contact you.”

“Already happened.  That’s how I knew Mary took his phone away from him.”

Pale eyes sharpened worriedly at her.  “What did he say?”

“He wanted to know if I was safe.”

“Indeed.”   Was all he said before taking his leave.  Molly shut the door behind him and leaned against it, the silence settling in around her.  She had only this day left before she had to put back on her facade that everything was okay and deal with the world.

 


	35. Chapter 35

A week had passed since Moriarty’s face had been pasted on every single video screen in the city.  Then the new year passed without incident and Molly hadn’t heard from anyone save the occasional phone call or text from Mary.  Molly returned to work under the protective gaze of Mike and probably more than probably necessary visit from Lestrade as a checkup.  Life, for everyone else, went back to normal. 

For Molly, life wouldn’t be normal until part of her heart returned. 

* * *

 

One evening, weeks later, she was finishing up some tests when her mobile rang.  She glanced at it with a frown as she pulled off her gloves and walked towards the table it was sitting on.  The call screen said it was from John. 

“Hello?”  she answered. 

“Molly?  Oh thank Christ you answered!”  John’s rushed voice answered.   “Mary just had our…she insisted I call you…right this moment, she said…Molly, she’s beautiful!”

“John, you aren’t making any sense.”  Her eye widened in understanding.  “Is Mary in labor?  Wait, where are you?”

“Upstairs.  It was the closest hospital.  Sherlock and I just got home from a case, no service.  We didn’t make it to the clinic in time, she had her in the backseat of the car,” The man was both laughing hysterically and sobbing over the line and she tossed the gloves in the disposal as she headed for the doors.  “Sherlock was stuck in the backseat with her, I think he might be traumatized, it was bloody brilliant!”

“John, give me a room number.”

“712 West, Molly, you have to see her, she’s beautiful!  And Mary’ll kill me if you didn’t come up. They’re going to move her to the clinic tomorrow after observation.”

“I’m on my way.”

She shoved the mobile in her lab coat and took the elevator to the general observation ward.  Hurrying through the hallways, remembering the last time she was up in the wards was when she was helping a weak Sherlock back to his room.  She came to the room and had her hand on the door when she happened to glance into the window into the room. 

John was sitting on the bed Mary was in, his hand over one of hers.  Mary was sitting up watching in amusement as Sherlock stood before them holding a bundle in his hands.  Molly’s hands began to tremble as she stared at the image before her; Sherlock holding the newborn in his arms, his eyes gazing in confusion and wonder at the small bundle in her arms. 

The world narrowed to a pinprick and all of the air disappeared from the hallway.  She stumbled back away from the door.  She couldn’t go in there.  She couldn’t be part of this moment.  Seeing him holding the Watson’s baby when he didn’t know about William; William who was hidden away from her because of her association with everyone in that room.  She couldn’t maintain a calm exterior when it was a daily effort to not fall into a heap onto the floor and sob her heart out. 

She gasped for breath, her vision blurring.  She couldn’t.  Not right now.  She couldn’t.  She’d apologize to Mary later but there was no way she could step foot into that room at that moment. 

Spinning on her heels, she ran down the hallway, hitting the stairwell exit door with more force than needed and proceeded to run down the multiple flights of stairs that led back down to the basement, not stopping until she reached the cool hallways of the basement.  She raced into the locker room, shutting the door behind her and sliding down onto the floor, knees to her chest rocking gently as she tried to regulate her breathing.  It seemed as if these random panic attacks were going to be part of her life now. 

She could feel her phone vibrating in her pocket be she ignored it, neither willing not able to talk with anyone.  And knowing her luck someone spotted her as she was running from the room.  If her luck was very bad, chances are it was Sherlock, who refused to back down from discovering all of her secrets. 

She sat in that locker room the better part of an hour, trying to draw breath and stop the panicked, hysterical sobs that would rip from her throat just when she thought she was calming down.  Outside the door she could hear people talking and walking down the hallways but she didn’t dare poke her head out to see who it was.  It was night, so there were not many people in this part of the basement.  Which meant the number of people it could’ve been was remarkable low and that she knew some of them. 

Finally, the tears and the panic attack subsided and she felt as if she could breathe again.  Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly and rested her back against the door.  Her legs fell limply onto the floor, tight and tired from being curled up in a ball on the floor for so long.  Her back hurt, her bum was sore and cold and her fingers were aching from being clenched.  Rolling her neck, she pulled her phone from her lab coat and look at the messages that had come in while she was hiding. 

 

**Molly? Where are you?  JW**

**I saw you in the hallway tell me where you are  JW**

**Molly do not make me drag Sherlock with me to find you  JW**

**I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!  I didn’t think, I am so sorry!  MW**

**I saw your face, I didn’t even think when I told John to call you  MW**

**Oh God, Molly, please forgive me, I didn’t think, I am so sorry  MW**

**I told John to stop looking for you  MW**

**Just please text me and let me know you’re ok!  MW**

**You’re not in the lab, where are you?  JW**

**Molly call me immediately when you’ve gotten this!  JW**

**Answer your mobile.  SH**

**You not answering my text is becoming a habit I do not like.  SH**

 

Molly climbed shakily to her feet and stumbled towards the row of sinks.  She turned on one and splashed water on her face.  Pulling several towels from the rack she patted her face down before she dared to look at herself in the mirror. 

Her eyes were red and swollen again, her nose red and her cheeks splotchy.  Sighing, she pulled the elastic from her hair and finger combed it before retying it back up.   Wetting another towel she held the cold paper against her face, willing the red to go away, still taking slow deep breaths. 

She looked again and, despite looking pale, it at least no longer looked as if she’d had a crying jag.  Although if Sherlock was searching for her, he’d notice.  Because he always notice when she was at her worst, never when she was at her best.

Taking one last breath, she pulled her mobile back out from her pocket and sent a text to Mary. 

 

**Congratulations!  So sorry I can’t make it up, work.  Mx**

**Text me when you’re home and I’ll come round for a visit.  Mx**

 

She shook out her hands, took a breath and stepped out of the locker room. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Three days later, Molly stopped by the Watson’s flat.  Mary answered the door tentatively, watching Molly carefully.  Molly gave a huge smile and lifted a bag covered with pink and yellow balloons. 

“Congratulations.  You look great!”

“I look like death warmed over is what I look like.”  Mary said, pulling Molly to her and wrapping her up in a tight hug.  “I am so sorry Molly, I have no excuse, I didn’t think…”

“Hush.  You’d just had a baby in the backseat of a car with Sherlock of all people as a midwife.  You are more than entitled to not be thinking of anything but that.” 

Mary pulled back and tugged her into the flat. 

“Come in, it’s safe.  John’s at work and Sherlock’s where ever Sherlock usually is. He’s been solving cases via text and Twitter for the last couple of weeks, his phone is rarely out of his hands.”  She shut the door behind her as Molly handed her the bag. 

“Here.  I bought nappies because I remember how there never seemed to be quite enough nappies.”

“You are going to be my secret weapon Molly Hooper.”  Mary swore as she took the bag and sat down.  She pulled out a package of nappies and wipes, some receiving blankets and a furry onesie for outside.  Mary laughed as she held up the onesie. 

“It’s perfect!  I love it for outside.”

“It’s a little big for now but in a month or so, it’ll be fine.”

A cry interrupted them and Mary winced.    
“If she would sleep for longer than a half an hour, I could get something done.”  She climbed to her feet and Molly followed after her. 

“Oh sweetling, just sleep,” Mary cooed as she entered the bedroom.  Molly stepped in watching Mary pick up the crying infant, looking for all the world lost and exhausted.   She bounced the crying baby and made shushing noises.  Molly took a step forward, her eyes on the bundle. 

“May I?”

Mary looked at her worry coloring her face.  “Are you sure?  I don’t want to push and I completely understand if you can’t…”

Molly smiled, holding out her arms for the baby.  “Trust me, I’m fine.”

Mary transferred the infant to Molly and with a few moves, the crying infant was in Molly’s arms. She’d forgotten how light infants were as she pulled back the blanket to see the wrinkled up crying face. 

“Oh Mary, she’s beautiful!  She has your features.  Hello darling,”  she cooed at the baby as she gently rocked her.  “Oh, shhhh, it’s okay, Mummy and Auntie Molly are here. You’re perfectly safe.”

The infant’s wails slowed with the rocking until they stopped.  Molly smiled as she allowed the tiny hand to hold her finger as light brown eyes looked up at her watchful.  Mary sagged in relief. 

“Oh God, Molly marry me.  I’ll divorce John, we’ll get married and you can take care of her.  It’ll be brilliant, John will understand.”

Molly laughed as she rocked the bundle.  “Sorry, my heart’s already given to someone with blue-green eyes, a mess of black curls and the best grin.”

“Is it the one over the age of five or under?”  Mary asked as they walked back out into the sitting room. 

“Under. Not quite sure I’ve ever seen his father’s best grin.”

“I have, it’s quite fetching.”  She fell back onto the couch in relief as Molly took the chair still rocking the now sleeping infant in her arms.  “I saw your face.” 

Molly looked up at her, perplexed. 

“At the hospital.  I glanced over and saw your face.  I’m sorry, I think it was the sudden and absolute look of guilt that crossed my face that caused John and Sherlock to see what I was looking at.  I saw you and suddenly I felt like the worst person in the world; your son is gone and here I am insisting you come up and see mine. Could I rub more salt in your wound?”

“Actually, it’s wasn’t this darling at all.”  She frowned.  “What are you two naming her?”

Mary smiled.  “We’re thinking Rosamund.  Rosie for short.”

Molly smiled.  “Rosamund.  It suits her.”  She stroked the now sleeping baby’s face gently before looking back up at Mary.  “As I said, it wasn’t Rosie.  I was full on my way to see you, I was worried, John sounded near hysterical and I wasn’t sure what he was on about regarding Sherlock,”  She bit her lip nervously.  “I got to the door and happened to glance into the room and…I saw him.  With Rosie.  And the look on his face.  And I panicked.  He has a son Mary, a son he knows nothing about.  He’ll never hold Will in that way, never see him as that infant, I’m not sure he’ll ever see him as the toddler he is now; all new words and new experiences.  The little boy who loves swings and ducks and this ragged stuffed dog his Uncle gave him.  That little boy who can deduce you with a glance and if he doesn’t like you, then God help you because not even his father can cut you to the quick as well as that little boy can.” 

She blinked quickly and smiled.  “Somedays I feel horrible that I’ve held those discoveries from him but then he does something so stupid like going on a three-day drug bender and I think, I can’t have this is William’s life.  But then there are times like in the hospital when he was holding Rosie and the look on his face about broke my heart. And I feel like the world’s most horrible person.”

“Oh Molly, you aren’t horrible.  You’re a mother.  And you’ll do whatever it takes to keep him safe.”

 


	36. Chapter 36

Mrs. Hudson was trying to take pictures and failing miserably.  Molly was drinking a glass of champagne, half watching Sherlock who was standing away from everyone tapping madly at his mobile. 

“I’m not sure I’ve got the picture,” Mrs. Hudson sighed.  Molly turned her attention towards the older woman and put her glass down so she could see what she’d done.  She focused Mary and John who were sitting on the couch with Rosie and snapped the picture. 

“There you are.”

Mary grinned up at them from the couch.  “Molly, Mrs. Hudson, we want you two to be the godmothers.”

Molly smiled as Mrs. Hudson almost cried.  John stood up as wandered towards Sherlock as Molly nodded, her eyes catching Mary’s

“I’d be honored.”

Mary glanced towards Sherlock to see him give John a grin, his eyes not leaving his mobile as the man patted his shoulder as he passed.   She looked back towards Mrs. Hudson who had come over and was making cooing noises at the baby. 

“Mrs. Hudson, would you like to hold her while I grab some tea?”

From the corner of her eye she saw Sherlock’s eyes glance up quickly, take in the scene, and decided there was no harm before turning his attention back to his mobile. 

“I’d love to dear.”  The older woman sat on the couch and Mary deposited the baby in her arms. 

“Molly, can you help me?”

“Sure.”

John glanced up at them as they entered the kitchen, glancing between the two of them.    
“Mrs. Hudson?”

“Who else would have her, dear?”  Mary asked, kissing his cheek.

“I’ll just go back out there and check on them, shall I?”

Mary waited until John left the room. 

“Thank you.  With Sherlock being the godfather, I wasn’t sure if you’d be comfortable…”

Molly put a hand on her arm.  “Mary.  It’s fine.  Thank you for the honour.  Now,” she shooed her off.  “Go have a rest.  I can bring out tea.”

Mary grinned and pressed a kiss near her cheek.  “You’re an angel Molly Hooper.”

“I’ve been getting that a lot recently.”

She set out the cups and put the kettle on for water as she went about getting the service ready. 

“Do you need help?”

She took a deep breath before dropping bags into the tea pot. 

“I have it thank you. Besides, you’d have to put up the mobile.”

There was a heavy sigh behind her and then he came into her view, his mobile at his side. 

“I am perfectly capable of putting the mobile down.  There just usually isn’t anything diverting around.”

She glanced over at her, noticing him watching her. 

“I’m not that diverting either.”

“On the contrary.”

She blinked once, turning to look at him fully.  He studied her, his eyes darting around her.  For a moment, she was reminded of how William looked at people.

“How are you?”  he asked.  She tilted her head. 

“I’m well.  How are you?”

“This is the first time I’ve spoken with you since Christmas.”

She felt her lip twitch upward.  “And who’s fault is that?”

His lip twitched upward in response.  “Yours as you’ve developed a habit of not answering my texts.”

“You could’ve called.”

“Would you have answered?”  His eyes were focused on her, penetrating.  She felt pinned to the spot, as if he was trying to discover all of her secrets from just the look in her eyes. 

The kettle whistle broke the mood and she blinked, turning away from him to pull the kettle from the stove. 

“It was a…bad time.  I apologize for not answering in a timelier manner.”

“I don’t need your apologies Molly.  I just need to know you’re okay.” 

“Right.  I promise I’ll answer your calls from now on, okay?”

She didn’t look at him, focusing her attention on making the tea.  He finally moved from her line of sight heading towards, she thought, the sitting room where everyone else was located.  She startled when she felt a light brush against the nape of her neck, but by the time she turned around, he was gone.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Absence, it seems, did not make the heart grow fonder, it just made the heart scab over.  Life moved on, not caring at all that a piece of Molly’s heart was gone or that at least, the wound had stopped bleeding and was now merely painful.  Everyone had their own lives and a not previously known part of Molly’s was of no importance whatsoever. 

Mike had asked. He’d seen the weeks of her looking haggard and had finally pulled her into his office and had asked after him.  She lied, telling him that he was on holiday with his nanny and her family and would be home soon.  With all the things happening in London, it was only right to send him to the country.  She was merely missing him but they’d be home soon enough and he’d bring back his untapped energy and she’d never get any sleep. 

“The Christening is next weekend, you can make that, right?” 

Molly was walking home from the tube when Mary had called.  She nodded before remembering that Mary couldn’t see her nodding.

“There shouldn’t be any problem, it isn’t like I’m doing anything else that weekend,” She heard another ringtone and looked at her phone wondering if somehow she’d disconnected the call.

“I wasn’t sure,” Mary said proving that the call hadn’t been lost.  She gasped suddenly, holding the phone against her shoulder as she dug in her bag.  She pulled out the burner phone that was ringing. 

“Mary, I’ll call you back.”  She hung up before Mary could reply and clicked on the second phone. 

“Hello?  Hello?  Don’t hang up!”

“I would never!”  Dana’s voice said on the other end and Molly almost cried in relief. 

“Dana, are you two okay?  How’s William?  Is he grown?  Has he said any new words?  Does he miss me?”

“I feel absolutely horrid already Molls, don’t make me cry.”  Dana told her.  “He’s fine, we’re both fine.  Yes, yes, and oh Christ yes.”

Molly choked out a laugh, tears sliding down her face.  “Can I talk to him?  I don’t want him traumatized but I so want to hear his voice.”

“I want you to talk to him but I’m afraid I’ll end up with an entire night of “Where mum?”  again.  I went through a week of that in the beginning.  But…hold on.”

Molly heard the phone rattle around.  She clutched the phone to her ear, pressing it tightly so she could catch even the most minute sounds of her son.  She heard Dana’s voice. 

“What are you making Will?”

She heard something rustle and then Dana’s voice again. 

“What is that?”

“Doggie,” she heard William say and she clapped a hand over her mouth.  She stood frozen on the sidewalk, the phone to her ear, not even daring to move in case the wind or movement from her steps took any sound William might make away from her. 

“Like your doggie?”

“Yeah,”

“You hungry?”

“Yeah,”

She heard movement again and closed her eyes trying to imagine her son climbing off of a chair. 

“Hey Will, say I love you.”

“ I love you.”

Molly cried silently, tears streaming over the hand clasped to her mouth, shoulders shaking silently.  There was movement on the other end before Dana’s voice came back. 

“You okay?”

“Yes,” her voice choked and tear-filled.  “Thank you.  Thank you so much.”

“I can’t stay on long, I just wanted you to know that we were safe.  And…to tell you to make plans to take the second weekend in March off, take a train to Gloucestershire and stay at the Hatton Court Hotel.  I’ll text you details.”

Her heart leapt.  “Are you sure it’s safe?”

“As safe as it can be.  Tell no one and it should be even safer.  I don’t know how long this is going to take Molls, but I’m damn positive it’s not going to be over before Will’s second birthday.  And I’ll be damned if you miss it.  We’ll just need to be extremely careful.”

“Okay.  Okay, I’ll see you then.  Thank you, Dana, for everything.  And tell him I love him.”

“I will.”

The phone went dead and Molly clicked it off, sliding it back into her bag.  She wiped her face and with a lighter heart then this morning, quickened her steps to hurry home.

 

* * *

 

“Molly!”

She stepped out of the car and waved to Lestrade who was walking towards her, a relieved smile on his face. 

“Afternoon Greg.”

He gave her a quick hug, glancing at her dress. 

“You look great.”

Laughing, she glanced down at her red and white flowered dress and sweater combo.    
“Thanks.  I actually went shopping.  Figured I could use a new dress for a special occasion.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said, holding out his arm.  She took it and let him lead her towards the church.  “Sherlock’s ignoring everyone.  Mrs. Hudson’s giving up talking to him, John can’t move him and Mary’s focus is on the baby so she can’t be bothered to take him to task so that leaves you.  Make sure he pays attention during the ceremony.”

She giggled.  “When did babysitting Sherlock end up on my resume?”

“You’re one of the few people he’ll listen to.  Speaking of babies, how’s your little one doing?”

She winced, quickly glancing around the front of the church to see if anyone overheard.  Thankfully there didn’t seem to be anyone close enough to overhear. 

“Fine, he’s in the country on holiday with his nanny.  With all the things happening right now, I didn’t feel safe with him staying home.”

“Right, of course.  Understandable.”  He patted her hand before letting her arm go.  “If you need someone, you know you can call me, right?”

She gave him a smile.  “Of course Greg.  Thank you.”

“Molly, you’re here!”  John rushed forward, grabbing her arm and pulling her towards the taller man with his face buried in his phone screen.  Beside him, Mrs. Hudson merely rolled her eyes.  Biting her lip to hide a smile, she reached out and tugged on the arm of Sherlock’s suit coat.

“We’re starting.” She said when his eyes flicked from his phone to her.  She stepped in front of him and walked down the aisle to the front of the church where Mary was waiting with Rosie.

 

* * *

 

“Rosamund?”

“It means rose of the world.”  She glanced at the man beside her still on his phone.  “Didn’t you get John’s text?”

“No.  I delete his texts.  I delete any texts that begins Hi.”

She looked up at him, wondering why any of this conversation actually surprised her. 

“No idea why people think you’re incapable of human emotion.”

On the other side of Sherlock, Mrs. Hudson pointedly cleared her throat making Molly feel like she was in school again.  She murmured an apology then elbowed Sherlock’s arm.

“Phone!”  she hissed quietly when he glanced at her.  He rolled his eyes but did as she asked.  

She didn’t even try to act surprised when Suri suddenly loudly stated that she couldn’t understand the question a moment later.

 

* * *

 

The celebration afterwards was held at the Watson’s so Rosie could sleep if she were so inclined.  The entire celebration however, she was more inclined to be happily held by Molly.  The baby cooed in Molly’s arms as she swayed around the living room and cooed back.  Mary was thanking people for coming as they left, standing beside her husband when she caught sight of Sherlock.  The man had his phone in his hands but his eyes were tracking Molly’s movements as she swayed, her full attention on Rosie.    There was something in his eyes, something she’d never seen before.  He was unaware he was watching her, unaware that he was being watched and she knew that it was only because he was in the safety of their household that he was comfortable enough to let his guard down. 

She went back to thanking people, still glancing at Sherlock.  At one time he took a step towards Molly before stopping himself and looking around the room.  His eyes met hers and she gave him a small smile.  He returned with a frown and looked back down at his phone. 

Finally, the last person, save the four of them left and John shut the door with a finality. 

“Thank Christ that’s over.  I’d love to sleep for a week.”

A small snicker came from Molly who was still cooing at the baby. 

“Aww, Daddy thinks he’s getting sleep, isn’t that cute Rosie.  Of course it is.”

“Keep talking and I’ll make you take her home with you.”  John joked as he loosened his tie.  Molly grinned.    
“Don’t you listen to your mean old Daddy, he’d never let you leave.” 

Mary noticed her suddenly stricken face and hurried towards her. 

Sherlock got there first. 

“Are you all right?”

Molly’s smile didn’t reach her eyes.  “Yeah, I…I guess I’m a little tired.  Got a bit of a headache. Mary?”

“I have her.”  She took Rosie from Molly’s arms, her eyes searching hers.  “You want to lie down a bit?”

“No.  I think I need to go home.”

“We can share a cab.” 

Molly looked at Mary first, then Sherlock. 

“I don’t want to be any trouble.”

“It’s no trouble.”

“Well Baker Street is closer so I insist you are dropped off first.”

He opened his mouth to argue but she held up a finger. 

“No arguments, or I take the tube.”

He shut him mouth and glowered at her. 

“Fine, but I insist on paying.”

She smiled at him sweetly.  “Agreed.”

Mary marveled at how efficiently Molly had gotten him to agree to all of her terms without sparking his curiosity.  She was getting a cab to her house, Sherlock was paying and he was still none the wiser as to where she’d moved to.  It was genius really.  She wondered if she’d have to ask for lessons from Molly on how to effectively silence one Sherlock Holmes.


	37. Chapter 37

The next Friday found her with a packed bag and on the London train to Paddington station in Gloucestershire.  She fell into her seat the overnight bag next to her.  She was going to see her baby.  Her heart was pounding hard against her chest, yet she’d never felt lighter.  It had been months since she’d last seen him and now that the weekend was here…finally here, she was all nervous anticipation.  The train started moving and she leaned back in her seat.  She’d had some small horrid thought that somehow someone would’ve figured out where she was going and why and tried to stop the train. 

Her mobile buzzed in her pocket and she pulled it out. 

 

**Body coming to Barts.  Could be an 8.  Need you to perform autopsy.  SH**

 

She sniffed.   _Nope.  Sorry Sherlock,_  she thought.   _Not even the Queen’s death could make me miss this weekend._  She didn’t type that as her response, of course, that was just inviting questions.

 

**Can’t. Out of town this weekend.  Byers is on call.  Mx**

**Byers is incompetent!  I need you! SH**

**Sorry Sherlock. Mx**

**I trained Byers.  Not incompetent! Mx**

**Perhaps if you were nicer to people… Mx**

**If it’s worrying, you could ask Mike Stamford if he’d be willing to help. Mx**

**Molly, you are being very uncooperative. SH**

**Why was I not informed of this holiday?  SH**

**I wasn’t aware I needed to get your approval.  Mx**

**John is informing me that what I said was out of line. SH**

**I’m supposed to tell you to have fun and we’ll make due without you. SH**

**Which, of course, I won’t, but needs must. SH**

**However, I must insist you text me immediately upon your return to London as I’m sure I will need your expertise. SH**

**Agreed. Mx**

 

Thinking the conversation was over, she was about to put her mobile back into her pocket when it buzzed once more.

 

**See, I can be cooperative when need be. SH**

 

* * *

 

The Hatton Court Hotel was lovely.  She shouldered her bag and stepped into the old world lobby and headed towards the front desk.  The man at the front desk smiled at her approach. 

“Good afternoon Ma’am, how may I be of assistance?”

“Reservation for Downing?”  Dana had text information earlier that week with instructions on what name to put reservations under and what time everyone would arrive.  The man typed something into his computer and smiled again, handing her a key card.

“Your party has already checked in.  Have a lovely visit.”

Molly’s heart skipped.  She was mere feet away from her baby.  Forcing herself not to run up the stairs, she calmly thanked the man and headed towards the steps leading to the rooms.  Soon she was standing in front of the hotel room, her hand shaking as she tried to swipe her key card.   On the third try the light went green she pushed the door open. 

The curtains were open in the suite, toys already scattered around the floor.  Molly shut the door behind her, locking it and dropping her bag on the floor.  From the next room she heard a flush in the loo and Dana’s voice. 

“Put your pants back on, you can’t run around the room starkers.”

She heard the mischievous childish laughter of her son and laughed out loud herself.  The other room went silent and then the sound of tiny pounding feet came running from the other room.  William raced into the living room only wearing a tee shirt, his black curls bouncing.  His blue-green eyes widened in delight.

“Mummy!”  he screamed, running towards her.  Laughing through tears, she dropped to her knees in time to be attacked by a two stone toddler.  She pulled him into her arms, falling back onto her bottom as he climbed up her legs to wrap his still slightly pudgy arms around her neck and bury his face into her neck. 

Dana stepped into the main sitting area, smiling widely at the scene. 

“You made good time.”  She said.  Molly nodded, one hand in William’s hair and the other holding his body to hers. 

“The train was right on schedule.  Nothing was keeping me away from this weekend.”   She ducked her head and peppered his hair and the side of his face she could reach with kisses.  He giggled, burying his face further into her neck and tightening his hold. 

“Will, you have to put pants on.”  Dana insisted, holding up a pair of cloth pants with dogs on them.  “You can’t hand on your Mum half starkers.”

Molly grinned and pressed her lips once more to her son’s soft curls.  “Where are your pants?”

One arm left its hold on Molly’s neck to point behind him to Dana. 

“Let’s put your pants on, okay?”

“No!”  William whined, still against her neck.  “No leave.”

“You can stay on my lap, we just need to get you dressed.”  She held out a hand and looked over at Dana.  “Help me up please?”

Crossing the room, Dana grabbed Molly’s outstretched arm and hauled her to her feet.   Molly kept hold of William and crossed to the nearest settee.

“Thank you,”  she said as she sat down and took the underwear from Dana.  “Okay Will, let go.”

Obediently the toddler let go of her neck to plop into her lap.  She slid his underwear on and over, not even bothering with actual bottoms; he was somewhat dressed or at least decent so she wasn’t going to ruin it.  He snuggled against her chest, his arms wrapping around one of her arms. 

“Love you.”

She smiled, dropping a kiss on the top of his head.  “I love you too my angel.”

 

* * *

 

He hadn’t let her go the rest of the day, finally falling asleep that evening curled up in her lap.  Molly carefully put him into one of the beds and covered him up before sneaking back into the sitting room.  Dana had ordered tea and was pouring when she partially closed the door behind her so he wouldn’t be disturbed. 

“I feel like a horrible mother.”  She said taking one of the offered cups. 

“How so?  Because none of that reunion made me think horrid Mum.”

Haw am I going to leave him after this weekend?”  she asked as she sat down.  “If this is how he is after only three months of being separated, how is he going to take it when I leave again.  Is it selfish to keep doing this to him, knowing that he’ll in all likelihood be devastated when I leave?  Am I making him feel as if I don’t love him?”

“You have to stop this.”  Dana put a comforting hand on her arm.  “I’ve talking to him, well, as well as one can explain to a two-year-old boy.  He understands that we had to run, I’ve been drilling that into his head since birth.  When I got the call and said the release code, he knew exactly what to do and didn’t complain at all.  He knows that we have to hide because there are bad people that might be looking for him.  He knows that his Mummy can’t come with us because the bad people might track her and in turn find us.  He knows that his Mummy loves him very much and is only doing this to keep him safe.  Again, I’m not sure how much he really understands the concept of it but he knows.”

Molly put down her cup and reached over to hug Dana.  “Thank you for everything.  I don’t know what I would do if you weren’t in William and my life.”

“Molls, I love William and I love you too.  Trust me, nothing is going to happen to either of you.  Mycroft will make sure of that on your end and I will kill anyone who even tries to harm one soft curl on William’s head.”

Nodding, Molly let her go and sat back, swiping at her eyes before picking up her cup again. 

“I feel as if I’ve done nothing but cry these few months.  With Will and you being gone and then Mary and Sherlock and Rosie, it’s all been overwhelming.”

Dana raised a curious eyebrow, a grin climbing across her face.  “Who’s Rosie?  Is that Mary and John’s baby?”

“Yes,” She pulled out her phone and opened the photo album.  “Rosamund Mary Watson, and she’s the most precious baby girl I’ve ever seen.”

Dana swiped through the photos.  “Awww, she is adorable.  Wouldn’t it be a laugh if she and Will were friends when they grew up?”

Molly shrugged.  “If they know about each other by then, yeah.”

“Oh, with Mary, that will most likely be a possibility.  She’s not going to let a little thing like ‘secret son of Sherlock Holmes’ keep her from bringing Rosie around any chance she gets.”

Molly shook her head.  “You and Mary are a dangerous combination when you two get together.”

Dana’s grin widened.  “Aren’t we though? I’ve missed three months of gossip so tell me, how’s Sherlock doing?

 

* * *

 

Molly woke up the next morning with tiny feet digging into her side and a stuffed dog on her face.   She moved the dog and opened her eyes, assessing her situation before she moved. 

The hotel room had two beds and William was insistent that he be allowed to sleep with his mum.  He’d started on one side of the large king sized bed, with pillows and a chair propped at the edge to keep him from falling off but sometime during the night, he’d decided that on her would be the better sleeping option.  He was sideways in the bed, sprawled out as much as a two-year-old body could be.  His stuffed dog had somehow ended up under her chin and one foot was pressing against her stomach while the other was resting on top of it. 

“Morning.”  Dana whispered.  Molly looked over the length of the bed to where the woman was standing in the doorway.  “It’s hard to believe how one tiny creature can take up an entire king sized bed, yeah?”

Gently, she moved his foot off her stomach and placed the stuffed dog on his chest before climbing out of bed. 

“He must’ve had his foot pressing against my bladder all night.”

Dana chuckled as Molly hurried to the loo.

“I figured we could take in some of the countryside, maybe go for a walk?”  Dana suggested after Molly stepped back into the bedroom.    
“Isn’t that dangerous?”

“Nah, it should be fine.  We’re only here one more day anyway.”

“I pee.”  The tired voice piped up from behind them.  William was sitting up rubbing his eyes with that tired frown all infants and toddlers get.  Molly stepped towards the bed as he yawned again and gave her a bright smile. 

“Mummy!

“William, do you have to pee?” Dana asked from the doorway.  He nodded as he reached out for Molly. 

“I pee.”  He repeated. 

“All right birthday boy, off to the loo with you.”

She carried him towards the bathroom and set him down long enough to pull the disposable underwear from him, then put him on the toilet. 

“When did you start potty training?”  she asked as William sat his legs swinging as he quietly sang some made up song.

“Last month.  He decided he didn’t like the feel of wet nappies anymore.  He’s doing pretty good so far on the wet; he’ll have an accident if he’s immersed in something and forgets to go but he tells me almost immediately.  We’re having more trouble with the being dirty bit.”

“I’ve been reading up on it,” Molly said as William bounced his head to the music in his head.  “Apparently, boys are harder to train than girls.  So the fact that he’s almost trained himself to go when he feels the need is remarkable.”

William let out a little cheer when he finally went, making Molly and Dana chuckle.

“Well, he is a remarkable little boy.”

William hopped off when finished and looked expectantly to Dana.

“P’sn’ts!”  he exclaimed.

Dana grinned as Molly lifted him up to wash his hands.  “Someone’s finally realized what today is.”

Oh?”  Molly feigned ignorance, looking to her son who’d managed to almost drown the sink.  “What day is it William?”

He lifted his hand up, flinging water everywhere and held up two fingers.

“I two! P’sn’ts!”

Molly laughed, kissing his cheek before setting him down. 

“You are.  Happy birthday darling.  I think we might have presents for you.”

 

* * *

 

 

The entire day was like a dream for Molly.  After present unwrapping, or unripping, the three of them had breakfast and then walked around the quiet town where they shopped and enjoyed the relatively warmish day.  They found a pond with some ducks to William’s delight.  The toddler found some prettyish rocks that went straight into his pockets and a small park with a swing set.  They ate chips and had tea and cake at a corner Shoppe where William picked at his piece and fell asleep on Molly’s lap.  Finally, as the sun set, they headed back to the hotel; Dana carrying packages and Molly carrying William who’d decided he was too tired to walk anymore.

“You think we overwhelmed him?”  Dana asked as they walked through the lobby and towards their room.  Molly stroked her son’s hair as he rested his head against her shoulder. 

“I think I might have tried to shove too much stuff into this weekend visit.”  She admitted.  Dana unlocked the door and pushed it open, turning on the light against the setting sun.  Molly put William down with a grunt and the toddler went running towards the couch where he’d left his stuffed dog. 

She shut the door and followed Dana into the bedroom.

“Do you think he’ll be one of those children who gets overwhelmed by the outside world when he grows up?”  Molly asked taking a seat on one of the beds.  She watched Dana put some of the bags away.   “I mean, his father sometimes has trouble turning his brain off and recently with the drug binges,” she sighed.  “He said it was for a case but I remember the first time I met him.  He had just finished a stint in rehab and I overheard him talking to Greg, I think.  He asked him why and at first he said it was because he was bored but later he said it was because it helped him focus.  I don’t claim to understand why addicts get high and I’ve never really asked him, but I don’t want Will as he gets older to feel that he has to turn to drugs as a way to shut off his brain.  He’s already going to be more intelligent than his classmates when he reaches that age, he’s already more intelligent than his peers.  Pretty soon he’s going to surpass me and I don’t know how help him.”

“The same way you are now,” Dana answered.  “Be there for him.  Be his mum.  Love him unconditionally and let him know that when life gets overwhelming that you’re there for him.  There’s a reason, I think, why he’s so touchy feely with us.  We’re his rocks. I’m not sure if you’ve seen it but when life gets too much, he usually runs to you or I and just takes a time out.  Like today, he was all over the place, ducks, rocks, swings, trees, he was just cataloguing everything.  And when his little brain couldn’t take any more stimulation, he immediately went to you and you carried him for three hours without complaint.  I know you see that as just being his mum and the fact that you’re probably soaking up as much time with him as you can before tomorrow, but for William, you’re his rock.  His port in the storm.”

“Mummy!”  William yelled from the main room and both women shared a look before busting into giggles. 

“A demanding storm, but still his port.”

Molly snickered as she headed out towards the main room.  “Like father like son.”

William had her phone in his hand waving it around and her heart lurched. 

“What this?”  he asked pointing hard at something on her phone.  She hurried towards him, taking the phone from his hands.  Once again, he’d managed to bypass her code and unlock her phone.  Photos from Rosie’s christening were on the screen.  Molly smiled, sitting down next to him.

“This is Rosie.  Do you remember the baby Mary was going to have?  This is her.”

He frowned, peering at the screen.  Molly expended the screen on her phone so he could get a better look at Rosie. 

“Ma-ye baby?”

“Yes, Mary’s baby.  Can you say Rosie?”

“Wosie.”

“Close enough.”  She let him swipe through the pictures stopping every once in a while at a photo and asking who people were. 

“That?”

“That’s John.  Rosie’s daddy.”

She studied the blond haired man in the picture holding the bundle.  He swiped again, this time to an older woman and another man. 

“That’s Mrs. Hudson and Greg.  They’re friends of Mummy’s.”

He stared at the picture distrustfully.  She recognized his look. 

“No darling.  Greg is only a friend.”

He swiped once more and Molly winced at the next picture.  Mary had her phone at this time and had managed to snap a picture when she, Mrs. Hudson and Sherlock were posing with Rosie for photos.  Mary, in her utter inability to not meddle, had managed to snap a picture with just her, Rosie and Sherlock visible.   Molly had colored when Mary handed her phone back to her after photos were finished with a cheeky grin.  William pointed to the picture, his eyes brightening. 

“Dad!”

“That is a great picture Molls, how did you get that?”

“Mary,” Molly gritted out as William snagged the phone back from her to peer closely at the picture.  Dana laughed. 

“God, I love Mary.  I can’t wait to sit down with her when this blows over so she can fill me in on everything you won’t.”

“I am terrified when you two get together.”

Dana grinned.  “I think it’s brilliant.” 

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Molly woke up early.  The sun was barely up in the sky.  She had to leave early to catch the train back to London and because it would be easier for her to leave first before William and Dana.  She wasn’t sure who it would be easier for but she followed Dana’s instructions.  Carefully moving the sleeping toddler from her legs, she slid out of bed and hurried into the loo to change clothes and get ready. 

A few minutes later, she crept out of the loo, sleepwear in hand.  William was sprawled across the middle of the bed, all arms and legs spread everywhere, one hand clutching his dog, one pajama leg hiked past his knee and his sleep top twisted around his waist.  He was everything she’d ever wanted.  Biting her lip, she crept to the edge of the bed, and bent down to lightly kiss his temple, stroking his hair.  He didn’t move; another attribute he shared with his father; when asleep, he was asleep until he wasn’t.

She crept out of the room, closing the door a bit behind her and crossing the room to her bags to shove her pajamas in.

“Mummy?”

Cursing her inability to escape without one last kiss from her baby boy, she turned to see the toddler standing in the doorway rubbing his eyes.  He looked at her, his sleepy gaze going from her to the bag near her feet and deducing it all in moments.  He frowned, his lower lip jutting out in a pout. 

“No go bye bye.”  He whined hurrying towards her.  Blinking back tears, she fell to her knees again to catch him up in a hug.  He sniffed as he wrapped his arms around her. 

“My darling, I have to. Just for a little while longer, I promise.” She whispered in his ear.  Scooping him up she stood and took the two steps to the couch sitting down and depositing him on her lap.

“William, look at me.”

With another sniff, he looked up at her. 

“Do you remember your talks with Dana?”

He nodded. 

“Do you remember what she told you about this?”

Another nod.  “Bad pe’ole.  Hurt you.  Hurt me an’ Nana.  Havta hide.”

“Right.  That’s why you and Dana are in your special hiding place.  And why I can’t stay with you all the time.  Those bad people are watching me.  I can make little trips like this one, but I can’t stay for long.  Because if those bad people start looking for me then they’ll find you and my darling, I won’t have anyone hurt you.”  Smiling, she ran a finger across his wet cheek.  “It’s only for a little while, I promise.”

His lower lip quivered and she stroked his cheek, taking in his features; black curls currently untamed as he’d just woken up, blue-green eyes, cupid bow lips, pert upturned nose and chubby cheeks.  She dropped a kiss on his forehead and desperately thought of a way to comfort him. 

“Your daddy is hunting these bad people.  And he’s the best at what he does.  He knows that they need to be found and he will stop at nothing to make sure they are.  He and your Uncle Mycroft who misses you so much he won’t sit by and let any more time than absolutely necessary pass.  Do you trust me?”

He nodded. 

“Then trust in me and your Uncle and your Daddy.  Trust that we are all working to get you and Dana home as soon as possible.  Trust that we are going to make all the bad people go away.”

He nodded again. 

“I love you so much William.”

He clutched at her waist.  “Love you Mummy.”

“Let’s get you back to bed.  You want to sleep with Dana?”

He nodded as she picked him up.  He reached over to give her a wet kiss on her cheek, his hands on her face and then around her neck in a tight hug.  She clutched him to her and threw up a silent prayer that they stay safe.   She walked back into the bedroom and picked up his dog from the empty bed before putting him next to Dana.  She tucked him in, gave him his dog and kissed his forehead. 

“I’ll see you soon Will.”

“Mummy?”  He looked up at her with wide eyes. “I see Dad?”

She smiled.  “I promise.  When you come home, you can see your Daddy.”

She wasn’t sure how that would go over but if her baby boy could bear all of this, the least she could do was make sure his wish was granted.

 


	38. Chapter 38

Someone had been in her house.

Nothing was moved or had been changed.

Rather, the air of the house had been moved. 

She stood in the entryway of her house, terrified to go any further. 

She’d been around Sherlock Holmes way too much; she could smell a hint of something in the air; tobacco or the sea, perhaps both. Small things that had been in one place long enough that dust and time had secured their spot were just slightly off. 

Little things that most people would ignore and carry on with her life.  But she wasn’t most people, not any longer.

She stepped back out of her house and pulled out her mobile.  The phone rang twice before it was picked up. 

“Mycroft.  Someone’s been here while I’ve been gone.”

“Where are you?”  The response was immediate; not asking her if she was sure, no suggesting she might be overthinking something or might be overtired, just total trust that she knew.

“Outside.”

“Stay there, I’ll be there in ten.  Do not go back into the house.”

The call disconnected and she held her phone, looking around the empty street.  She moved a little down the front walk, nervous to be so close to her front door where honestly, someone could open the door and grab her at any moment.  But standing on the front walk made her feel a little exposed.  She thought about walking to a neighbor’s house when a black car pulled up in front of her house.  She tensed until the door opened and she spotted a man in a dark suit step out of the car.

“Doctor Hooper?”

She didn’t know this man, and the fact he was in a suit didn’t really set her at ease either.  Most of the men in her life wore a suit of one type or another; even Jim had worn suits, as had his minions once he’d finally stepped out of his persona of random IT guy. 

“Mr. Holmes’ ETA is two minutes.” 

As he spoke a white van pulled up behind them and a group of men stepped out all dressed in coveralls. 

“Door unlocked?”  one man asked.  She stared at them in confusion.

“Doctor Hooper?”  the man in the suit prompted. 

“Yes, sorry yes it is.”

Without a word the group of men filed into her house.  She watched them go with a sense of foreboding.  Obviously Mycroft was taking this extremely serious.  Another black car slid easily in front of the first and the back door opened.  Anthea peeked out  of the car. 

“Molly.” 

She finally sagged in relief at seeing a familiar face.  She hurried towards the car and slid in.  Anthea gave her a comforting smile as the door closed behind her.  In the seat across from her Mycroft leaned forward in his seat, studying Molly.

“Tell me what happened.” 

“I’ve just returned home from…holiday and walked into the house.”  She hesitated on her words, still nervous about who would be listening, even if it was in Mycroft’s personal car.  One did not befriend the Holmes brothers without learning how to be paranoid.  “I stepped into my house and there was just this air.  Something not right.  Smells not supposed to be in my house, things moved just slightly askew like someone knocked into it and tried to put it back exactly but missed.  I can’t explain it, but the house was wrong.”

Mycroft didn’t dismiss her claims, merely knocked on the window.  The door opened and the man in the suit who first arrived leaned in. 

“Yes sir?”

“Have the cleaners found anything?”

“They’ve found one listening device so far.  Not much else, they’re still looking.”

Molly felt sick.  Vindicated, but sick. 

“I want the entire house cleaned, the forms signed regarding anything they see while doing their duty.  I also want new security devices and locks on all the doors and windows.”

The man nodded and stood, shutting the door behind him.

“Where would you like me to take you tonight?”

Molly blinked slowly, looking between Mycroft and Anthea. 

“Sorry?”

“It’s going to take the cleaners some time to sweep your home and do the necessary changes.  I can take you to a secure location if you like; a nice hotel, or someone with whom you’d prefer to stay?”

She thought of John and Mary.  Mary wouldn’t have a problem with her staying over one night, but they had Rosie and even less sleep.  Sherlock, she didn’t even want to ask him.  If he’d discovered there’s been someone in her house, he’d be down here himself trying to search her entire house.  Which was dangerous on so many levels.  The fact that he still didn’t know where she lived and that William’s room was still there…waiting for him to return.  No matter what she’d promised her son, this wasn’t how she wanted Sherlock to find out about William.

“A hotel would be lovely, thank you. If it isn’t too much trouble.”

With a look towards Anthea, the woman began typing on her mobile. 

“We’ll set you up in a hotel close to Barts as you have work tomorrow.  Anthea will arrange for an outfit to be sent to you as well as the necessary toiletries needed.  By the time you return home tomorrow everything will be back in order.”  His face hardened.  “We will discover the person or people behind this, I promise you that.”

Molly watched the house disappear as the car pulled away and wondered who had found her and how much they knew.

 


	39. Chapter 39

It seemed recently, that for every hint of sunlight that came into her life, a maelstrom of darkness followed quickly after.

Barely a week later, Molly was in the middle of her shift when her phone went off.  She glanced over at it, noticing it was a text from Mary.    She went back to her testing, promising to look at it as soon as she finished with the orders that had come down.    An hour later, she came back to three text messages. 

 

**I’m sorry. MW**

**Have you talked to Mary? JW**

**Call me as soon as you get this MH**

 

She had just finished the last message when the doors to the lab opened and Sherlock strode in looking pensive. 

“What’s wrong?”  she immediately asked.  “I just got a text from Mary apologizing and then a text from John asking if I’d talked to her.”

“Mary’s run off.”

The news was so out of context for the woman Molly almost laughed. 

“No.  Mary wouldn’t just run off.  What’s happened?”

“She’s left John a note.  Someone from her past has threatened to kill her so she’s run off in a foolhardy attempt to keep John and Rosie safe.   As if someone wouldn’t use either of them to bring her back.  She hasn’t fully thought her plan of action through.”

Molly went cold as he spoke.  Someone was threatening Mary and she ran away.  The entire thing was similar to her situation.  No wonder Mycroft texted her.

“You have to find her.”  She said, interrupting him.  He stopped in mid-sentence, looking at her.  She never interrupted him when he was on a tear.  “Sherlock, you have to find her and you have to bring her home.  Rosie can’t be without her mum, she’s too young and Mary can’t just leave her.”

“Molly.” 

His hands were on her arms before she’d realized he’s moved and he was maneuvering her to the closest stool.  His face was close to hers, his eyes worried and she couldn’t help but think about how blue his eyes were at this moment. 

“Molly,”  his voice was firm.  “I promise I will find Mary and bring her home.  John is upset but he’ll soon forgive her.  Now, you said she text you?  What did she say?”

“She just said I’m sorry.  That was it.”

He nodded still focused on her, his hand not leaving her arms.  “That’s fine.  John and I are searching for her, we will find her, but if we have to leave suddenly will you be able to watch Rosie until we return?  It might be a couple of days.”

She nodded, taking a deep breath.  “Yes.  Just, give me more than five minutes notice, yeah?  I’ll need to ask for my schedule to be changed and just tell John to drop her off at my house.”

“That’s my girl.”  He leaned forward and kissed her forehead.  “Mrs. Hudson is available should you need her and Baker Street is always at your disposal should you need a closer place to stay.”

She chuckled as he stepped back.  “I’ll not take a baby there, Sherlock.  God knows what’s living in there.”

He was already sweeping out the door.  “I’ll be in touch.”

It wasn’t until he’d left that she realized what he’d said and that her forehead was still tingling from where his lips touched her skin.

 

* * *

 

Two days later, John texted her and then stopped by a bit later with Rosie and a bag full of stuff.  She opened the door and he strode in with the carrier. 

“Sorry about this. We won’t be gone long.  I’ve brought everything I can think she’ll need.”

“I’ve got her John, You go find Mary and bring her home. And John,”  She touched his arm, stopping him.  “Don’t be too mad at her.  I can understand her reasoning; doing whatever necessary to protect those she loves.”

He gave her a searching look followed by a tight smile and then he was gone, leaving Molly alone in the house with a sleeping baby.

Rosie was a joy.  Mike had given her the day off; she had more than enough vacation time accrued over her tenure at Barts that she’d never used, and she used it to spend the day with Rosie, cooing over the baby and enjoying having an infant in the house again.  It’d gotten entirely too quiet these past months. 

She pulled out some of William’s old baby toys to put on the floor for her, including a mobile and a play mat.  Rosie stared at the bright objects, batting at some of them with her hands and laughing when music came out of the ones she could move.  She pulled William’s old high chair out of storage, cleaned it off and soon the familiar sound of baby fists banging on hard plastic echoed through her kitchen again.  She took her in the backyard and plopped her in the baby swing and listened to Rosie’s happy screeches as she gently pushed the swing.  That night, she changed the sheets and put the sleeping baby in William’s crib , setting the night light and carefully closing the door until there was only a crack. 

Toby hopped up on her bed as she tucked in, keeping her door open a crack so she could listen for noises.  She’d missed having a baby around the house.  Maybe…just maybe, after all of this was over and after talking with Dana, she might think about having another child.  She still had some specimens and Sherlock had pretty much begged her to use them.  Maybe giving William as younger sibling would be something he would want.  It would also give Sherlock the opportunity to be involved with his own child, should he choose.  Of course, this was all contingent on how long it would take Sherlock to finish this case.

 

* * *

 

The next morning she bundled Rosie up and dropped her off at Mrs. Hudson’s, promising to be back to pick her up by five and insisting that if there were any problems to call her. 

She entered the basement hallway to Barts and stepped into the locker room to store her things when she heard two of the residents talking just outside. 

“Why does she always get so much time off?”  One was complaining.  “Anyone else and they’d be sacked by now.”

“I heard someone from the Government is always calling up Doctor Stamford and insisting her schedule be changed.”  The other said.  The first scoffed. 

“It probably has to do with that Holmes tosser who’s in here all the time.  Bloody well thinks he runs the place.”

“Good to know.  So all one has to do is shag Sherlock Holmes and you get to do whatever and keep your job.  Way to run a hospital.”

Mike Stamford’s angry booming voice startled her. 

“Not that it’s any business of either of yours but the reason Doctor Hooper is allowed her flex time is because she is a Doctor where you are both merely lab techs.  She also works the majority of nights, evenings and holidays as well as puts in overtime without so much as a complaint.  She hadn’t taken a holiday in years.  So if she suddenly needs a week off or a holiday here and there, I’m going to bloody well give it to her.  Now, how about you do your job and quit wagging your jaws before you find yourselves looking for another job.”

She heard the scurrying of feet followed by the swinging of the lab doors and leaned against the wall, tired and drained.  The door to the locker room opened and Mike poked his head in. 

She straightened up and wiped at her face. 

“Sorry I’m running a bit behind, I got caught up dropping Rosie off.”

“You aren’t late, in fact you’re twenty minutes early so stop pretending.”  He stepped in further and let the door close behind him.  “I saw you come in this morning and head in here to drop off your stuff and then I heard those two wankers.  I’ve half a mind to let Holmes deduce lot of them.”

Molly chuckled as she leaned her head back against the wall.  “Thanks Mike.”

“Ignore them Molls, you’re three times the person one of them are.”  He peered at her sympathetically.  “I know it’s not my place but, how are you sleeping?”

“I’m fine Mike.”

“You’re not, and I haven’t said a word because it’s none of my business.  But I know there’s something going on, something you’re caught up in the middle of.  With you watching John’s kid suddenly, you haven’t made one inkling of noise regarding William recently.  I know he just had his second birthday not too very long ago and usually you’d be chirping about something.  So I’m betting he’s still on his holiday,” He said the word like he knew it wasn’t just a holiday. “And I know Sherlock and John don’t know about William, which again, is your business,” He held up a hand when she opened her mouth to speak.  “Christ knows if it were my kid, I wouldn’t tell any of those lot either.  Which is why Lestrade and I haven’t said a peep to anyone about him, even though I know sometimes Greg is dying to lash out.  The thing is, we’re here for you Molly.” 

He patted her arm.  “You’re doing too much, over taxing yourself.  You’re going to pass out from stress if you don’t start taking care of yourself.  I can give you extra time off and rearrange schedules, don’t even worry about that but just know that I’m here if you need someone to talk to; Lestrade and I both.  I know he cares about you and would happily launch into anyone if something happened to you.”

She was touched.  Mike didn’t know how much she needed to hear that someone was willing to support her at the moment, even if it was only comfort talk.  He’d given her any time she’d requested without complaint and after what happened in the hallway she knew he had her back professionally, which took plenty of the weight off of her shoulders, more than he knew.  She patted the hand on her arm.

“Thank you Mike, really I appreciate it.  I’m trying not to be a bother, but it seems everyone around me is.”

“Not at all, and don’t let them bully you Molly.  You are allowed to say no once in a while, the world won’t end.”

She grinned, patting his hand once more before moving past him.  “Perhaps when Sherlock gets back I might ask him to just pop in and scare the hell out of those two.”

“Well if you do so, let me know ahead of time.  I’ll want to watch.”

 

* * *

 

 

She and Rosie had three glorious days together.  Three days where Toby once again hid in her room because he now no longer trusted anyone who was merely half his size and couldn’t speak legible English. 

They were in the sitting room when she got the text.

 

**Home.  Caught a case but Mary and John are on their way SH**

**Is everything okay? Mx**

**Everything is…resolved. SH**

 

She managed to pack everything up and gather all of Rosie’s things from her temporary room when she heard the doorbell.  Scooping up Rosie, who’d found a teether she’d liked and was currently gnawing on it, she walked through the rooms and unlocked the door.  Mary rushed in, all smiles and worried eyes.  John followed quietly a moment later.  Mary scooped Rosie from Molly’s arms and cooed over her. 

“How’s my baby girl?  Have you been having fun with Auntie Molly?”  The voices grew faint as Mary maneuvered through the foyer and into the sitting room leaving Molly and John to stand there awkwardly.  Molly waved. 

“Well, come in.”

He gave a quick smile and passed by her, looking around the place.

“I never got to say anything as the last few times I’d been here were under some sort of duress.  It’s nice, your place.  You got it when you were with Tom, yeah?”

“Yeah.”  She lied.  “When we broke up he moved out to the country.  I really like this house and the neighborhood so I stayed.”

“Pricey?”

“Not too much,”  She tilted her head.  “Thinking about leaving the city?”

John barked out a laugh.  “Never.  My practice is in town and God only knows what Sherlock would do if I was ever less than a quick taxi ride from Baker Street.”  He stopped before they reached the sitting room and Molly stopped with him, noticing his look.

“What’s wrong?”

“I thought about what you said,  when I dropped off Rosie.”  He started.  “And we talked.  I might not like it, but I understand why she did what she felt she had to do.   But, hopefully it’s all over and we can go back to a nice, quiet normal life.”

Molly gave him a look and he chuckled. 

“Yeah, maybe I’ll just settle for a nice, somewhat quiet sometimes sort of life.”

“Sounds better.  So you’re both okay?”

He nodded.  “We’re better.”


	40. Chapter 40

Everything was most definitely not better.


	41. Chapter 41

“I am so sorry for the last minute call but can you come over and watch Rosie?  It’s an emergency, Sherlock’s off doing something incredibly stupid, and Mary’s gone off after him.”

Molly stuck out a hand and waved down a taxi as she stepped out of Bart’s front entrance. 

“I’m in town, I can be at your flat in ten minutes.”

“Keep the taxi, we’ll just switch out.”

 

* * *

 

John was waiting outside the flat with Rosie in his arms when Molly’s taxi pulled up.  She stepped out, took Rosie and stepped out of the way as John slid into the taxi. 

“I got this, go!”

He shot out a quick  _thanks_  before the taxi was off down the street.  Rosie looked up at her, drooling and chewing on two finger. 

“Let’s see if we can get you into some dry clothes and find your teether Rosiekins.”  Molly told the baby in her arms as turned and walked into the Watson’s flat. 

She changed Rosie into dry pajamas, changed her nappy and put her on her cot to play.  She’d gotten off in the afternoon and luckily didn’t have plans for that evening.  She could always order takeaway and watch crappy telly here as well as her own house.  Plus, she had company.

Afternoon gave way to evening and she fed Rosie her dinner, laughing as the baby girl tried to blow bubbles with her pears and finger-painted with spilt carrots.

“just wait until you have teeth and can eat carrots in their sliced form,”  she told the baby as she spooned another mouthful.  “William’s favorite thing is to stack them all up in a tower as high as he can and then eat the leftovers.”  Rosie burbled again, carrots spilling from her lips making Molly laugh. 

“I think you’ll like William, he really is a lovely baby.  I rather think you two might get along wonderfully.  Or at least I hope so, your father’s did manage to set a precedent.”

After dinner, she cleaned Rosie off and set her down on her lap to read stories to her.  The baby liked the hard paged books, the bright colors and repetitive words.  Molly liked reading to her, it was a reminder of when she used to read to Will, with him sitting on her lap, staring wide eyed at the pictures. 

One more nappy change and she laid Rosie down for the night, glancing nervously out the window at the evening sky.  She was used to a case taking longer than expected because no matter how much he insisted he could solve a murder in record time, when it came to the actual legwork, Sherlock’s cases always took longer than anyone expected.  Something always happened.    There was a possible chance she could be spending the night on the couch. 

Stepping back into the darkened living room, she sat down on the couch and watched the telly until she fell asleep, the light from the screen glowing in the dim room. 

 

* * *

 

The key in the door was the first thing to alert her that they were home.   Yawning, she sat up from where she was slumped over and stood, stretching her limbs.  She stopped in mid-stretch when she spotted Greg Lestrade step through the door, holding up a barely functional John Watson. 

Her heart leapt into her throat and she rushed over to the two men, flipping on the lights as she went.

“What is it?  What happened?”

Lestrade was somber, his eyes grief-stricken and John was…catatonic.  His eyes were red and puffy, his body was shaking as if in shock.  Molly stepped out of the way and followed behind Lestrade as he led the other man to the couch. 

“Molls get the door, will you?”  Greg said and Molly looked behind her.  The door was open and there was nobody else near it. 

“Where’s…”  she swallowed, that fear rising in her throat again.  She wasn’t sure she wanted the answer to this.  “Where’s Mary?”

Greg winced as the question seemed to wake John from his catatonia.  His face went red and livid, his eyes almost spitting fire.

“He killed her!  That bastard killed Mary!”

Molly’s hand went to her mouth and she looked to Greg for clarification.  John had fallen to the couch sobbing brokenly and her eyes filled with tears.  Mary…gone?  What had happened?  How? 

Greg stepped towards her, putting a hand on her shoulder and leaning down so he could talk to her low enough that John couldn’t hear.

“There was snag and someone shot at Sherlock.  Mary took the bullet for him; jumped right in front of him.  Nobody saw it coming.  She got hit in the chest and went down.  There was nothing anyone could do, John got there just in time so he was able to say goodbye.  It all happened so fast.”

The tears were falling so fast she didn’t bother to stop them.  Greg looked at her sympathetically, rubbing her shoulder as she silently cried. 

“I wouldn’t mention Sherlock’s name, he blames him for Mary’s death.  Wouldn’t let him near Mary’s body.”

Molly looked behind Greg to the man still sobbing brokenly on the couch. 

“Greg…”

He pulled her into an embrace.  “I know.  There’s nothing I can do until tomorrow.  The killer is in custody.”

“I should go back to Barts, I can…”

“No.”  Pulling back, he took her shoulders firmly.  “Stamford is there and his instructions are under no circumstances are you to even enter the lab for the next day or two.  You are off rotation until this entire thing is settled.  He left you a message.”

“I can’t just sit home and do nothing.”  She insisted. 

“You aren’t.  There are two broken men tonight.  I’m staying to keep an eye on this one.  You’re the only one who can deal with the other.”

Sniffing, she wiped her eyes and nodded.  Pulling away, she stepped past him and walked towards the couch, sitting behind John.  She touched his shoulder, rubbing in a circle before pulling him to her.  He went into her arms easily, his arms clutching her, his face buried on her shoulder sobbing brokenly and giving her leave to cry too. 

 

* * *

 

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”  Molly asked quietly. 

She’d sat with John for over an hour, holding the man as he sobbed.  Finally Greg had managed to get him up and shuffle him to bed.  The house was quiet. 

“Someone had to take care of Rosie, I can always…”

“Molls, I have kids.  I think I can remember how to take care of a baby if she wakes up in the middle of the night.”  Greg gave a small grin.  “I got this.  Go do what you need to do.  There’s a car outside.”

Nodding, she stood on tiptoes and kissed his cheek before picking up her bags and leaving the flat. 

She was drained, still in shock and unwilling to even sort through her feelings.  There was a baby girl in that flat who was never going to see her mother again.  She wasn’t never going to see her friend again, John was never going to see his wife again.

She looked at the sleek black car parked in front of the Watson’s flat and didn’t even think twice.  She stepped to the car, waiting until the door opened and slid in.  The car drove off once she was settled and she pulled out her phone to look at her missed text messages.  Sure enough there was a message from Stamford.

 

**Under no circumstances are you to even enter Barts until I call you personally and give you approval.  DI Lestrade will explain why, but I am serious.  I will take care of this entire ordeal.  MS**

 

Her mobile rang before she could message Mike back and she answered it. 

“Hello.”

You’re on your way to Baker Street?”  Mycroft sounded tired. 

“Is that where he is?”  she asked.

“There was no place else he could go.  I personally escorted him home with no stop offs and then checked his flat as he raged against me. He is currently curled up in his chair staring off into space.  One can only assume he’s in his mind palace replaying how he could’ve changed the outcome.”

“Is it safe?”

“For anyone who isn’t you?  No. but we both know you have always been the exception.  However, I wouldn’t expect to come here and remain wholly untouched.”

“Where are you now?” 

“Just out on the landing.  The door is open, I can see him from where I am.”

“Mycroft,”  she could feel the tears burning at her eyes again, the sorrow threating to choke her. 

“There was nothing anyone could have done,”  he confirmed.  “It happened much too fast.  Yet, they will continue to place blame.”

“This will kill him.”  She whispered. “John’s blame for her death.  He’ll take it upon himself and it will kill him.”

“Which is why you’re needed.  I wouldn’t ask normally but he simply will not listen to me.”

“I know. I’ll be there in a bit.”

 

* * *

 

The car pulled up in front of Baker Street and Molly shouldered her bag as she slid out of the car.  Mrs. Hudson opened the door, her eyes full of tears. 

“Oh dear,”  she sobbed and Molly gave her a hug. 

“He’s in such a fright, he’s been exploding on Mycroft for hours now.” 

She nodded as she pulled away and climbed the stairs to the flat.  Halfway up the stairs, Mycroft stepped out of the upstairs flat.  A decanter followed almost immediately smashing into the opposite wall.

“I need no one!”  She heard the rage filled snarl come from inside the flat as Mycroft calmly walked down the steps.  “Least of all you!”

Swallowing hard, she continued her climb until she met Mycroft in the middle of the steps.  He looked worried. 

“Perhaps this wasn’t the best plan I had in mind.”  He murmured lowly. 

“He’s been crueler to me, I can handle it.  He won’t hurt me, not physically.”

He looked doubtful.  Taking a deep breath, she pasted a smile on her face and patted his arm. 

“I have this.”

“I’ll leave someone here.”  He insisted.  “Just in case.”

“Thank you, but it won’t be necessary.”

Stepping past him, she finished the climb to the landing and stepped into the Sherlock’s flat.  Pillows, papers and objects were strewn everywhere as if he’d had a tantrum and just threw everything.  He was sitting in his chair, his legs up to his chin, his feet on the seat, his hands folded and under his chin. 

He didn’t speak until her hand touched the door to close it.

“Leave it open, turn around and get out.”  He snarled.  She froze, swallowing hard.  Her hand tightened on the knob and she pushed the door closed. 

“You’ve never been stupid, don’t pretend to play it now.” 

Dropping her bag on the floor, she turned around to look at him.  His leg was bouncing on the chair, his continence changed from the calm centered pose not moments before.  His eyes bounced around the room, wild and frantic refusing to look at her. 

“Get out!”  he snarled again.  “Get out, go back to your lonely little flat with your ridiculous cat.  Do not even attempt to pretend that you’re here for anything other than your own self-importance.”

Slowly, she walked towards him, his barbs sliding off of her.  His eyes landed briefly on her before moving somewhere else. 

“I don’t need your pity Molly Hooper and you’re not going to get a sympathy shag from me so why don’t you just bugger off?”

She continued walked towards him.  He shot to his feet, his hands clenched at his side, looking like a caged animal. 

“I don’t need anyone, least of all you. Have you gone deaf?  I said get out and bugger off!”

She approached him carefully, looking up as he snarled at her.  Reaching out, she slid her hands over his clenched fist, holding tightly as he tried to yank his hands from hers. 

“Leave me alone Molly.”

“No.”

“What are you doing?”

Letting go of his hands, she slid her arms around his waist, standing in his space, holding him.  He was like a statue; frozen, not moving, barely breathing.

“I don’t want you here.”  He whispered. 

“No.”  she agreed.  “But you need me here.  Sherlock,”  She sighed, pressing her face against his chest, feeling his heart pounding against her ear.  “It’s just us. Allow yourself this one small weakness, just for tonight.”

Her lips curved up in a smile.  “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

He stood there silently, not responding but not fighting it.  Finally, with a shaky sigh, he took her shoulders and pulled her away from him.  She leaned away, watching him.  Waiting.  He took a step back and collapsed into his chair, tugging her hand.  She fell onto his lap and was a bit surprised when his arms wrapped around her, pulling her close to him.  His face buried into her hair and she heard him softly sobbing as she wrapped her arms around him and held him to her.


	42. Chapter 42

The sky was dark and rainy the day they buried Mary.

Molly stood beside John, Rosie in her arms as the priest read the eulogy at the grave site.  On the other side of her Mrs. Hudson was crying quietly into a handkerchief.  She jiggled Rosie a little to keep the baby quiet as she surreptitiously glanced around the crowd, trying to find the one person who, besides John, shouldn’t have been there but wasn’t.  John was still livid days after, his grief morphing into a stubborn fury and iron insistence that Sherlock Holmes never be allowed around anyone  he cared about ever again.

She found him, therefore, standing away from the crowd, beside a tree watching the proceedings but not quite part of the procession.  Her heart broke for him; he loved Mary, almost as much as John had-albeit in a much different way- but it didn’t mean his love was any less genuine. For him to be cut out of her funeral, her family, was cruel.  She understood John was grieving but it hurt. 

Especially the orders he’d given her, insisting that if he asked, and he just knew she’d be the one he’d go to, that she was to tell him he didn’t want him anywhere around Rosie.  John’s heart was broken.  But denying Sherlock of Rosie would break his heart, and forcing her to be the one to tell him would break hers.

She stood by him as the crowd began leaving, saying her own silent goodbye to Mary before she gave John space to say his own goodbyes.  He stood unseeingly in front of the casket, not moving, not talking for a long time. 

Lestrade was the one who came to her rescue.  He placed a comforting hand on John’s shoulder. 

“Come on mate, let’s get you home.” 

John moved like a zombie, allowing Greg to walk him away from the grave.  He shared a look with her as they passed and Molly took one last look back towards the tree where Sherlock had stood.  The spot was empty. 

 

* * *

 

Her life changed rapidly.  Suddenly she was either working or watching Rosie.  It was like when William was an infant only this time she didn’t have the support of a Dana to help her.  A week after Mary’s funeral, Sherlock came around the flat, eyes sorrowful and desperate to be of use, asking if there was anything he could do to help.  She met him in front of the door, Rosie in her arms so he could at least see his goddaughter.  Neither of them talked about that night, the night she went to his flat.  She could barely look into his eyes when she told him that John would rather have anyone else’s help but his.  She slipped him a note, begging him not to read it until later and giving him one last greedy look of the baby before she was forced to return to the house and lock him out.  

She cried in the bathroom after she put Rosie down for her nap.  Cried for the little girl who would never see her mother again, cried for John, cried for Sherlock, cried for herself.

John was helpless.  He hadn’t gone to work, either crying in his bedroom or walking around all night nursing a bottle of scotch.  He didn’t hear Rosie’s cries, didn’t react to her, didn’t react to anything. 

Two days after Sherlock stopped by the flat, she packed up a bag or two for Rosie, left a note for John telling him where she was, took the baby and returned home.  She didn’t expect John to follow so she wasn’t upset when he didn’t. 

 

* * *

 

The special phone rang. 

Molly heard the distinct ringtone while she was feeding Rosie.  The baby was laughing over her food finger-painting on the tray of the highchair as Molly reached for the phone. 

“Hello?”  she answered as Rosie sent up another squeal. 

“What’s that noise?”  Dana asked.  “You got another baby in the house?”

In the background she could hear her son’s voice.  “Baby!”

She sobbed.  Which make Rosie cry and Dana panic.

“Molly?  Molly what’s happened?”

“It’s Mary.”  She sobbed, trying to sooth a crying baby.  “She’s been killed.  John’s a mess, Sherlock is just…Christ I have no idea.”

“Oh Molls I’m so sorry.”

“I miss my baby Dana.  I have Rosie here and I’m trying to do it all myself and I remember when William was this age and I’m just so tired all the time.”

“That’s because I was there to help.  You’ve got nobody Molls, you’re going to burn yourself out.  Where’s her father?”

“John is in no state to take care of her.  He doesn’t even hear her when she cried, I finally just brought her home with me so I could get some sleep in an actual bed.  I left a note but I’m not sure he even knows or cares where we are right now.”

“Call Mycroft.”  Dana insisted.  “I have some friends who can help you, let me get a message to him and we’ll see if we can get someone out there to help you until her dad can get himself together.  You can’t do this alone Molls.  Call Mycroft.”

She nodded, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand before scooping out some food from the bowl and feeding it to Rosie. 

“Okay.  Okay.  How’s Will?”

“We’ve hit the terrible twos.” 

Molly laughed.

 


	43. Chapter 43

Rosie was a good baby…who just didn’t sleep the entire night.  It was almost as if she knew there was something wrong but was too young to understand what and therefore cried through the night to express her discontent.  Molly was living on four hours of sleep a day and tubs of coffee before someone took action.

 “No.” 

Mike Stamford stood in front of the doors to the lab, his arms crossed over his chest.  Molly blinked at him in confusion, her lab coat half on. 

“No what?  Is there something happening I’m not authorized to know?”

“Not a thing.  No as in, go back into the locker room, grab your stuff and go home. You are dreadfully overtired and I can’t have it affect your work.  Mrs. Hudson had Rosie for the day, get some sleep.  That’s an order.”

She blinked lethargically again and then frowned.  “How do you know who has Rosie?”

“Greg told me.  He’s keeping track of John, you and Rosie.  Go home Molly.  Get some rest.  Greg is taking care of Rosie this evening so you can get some sleep so don’t worry about her.  I fully expect you to be in tomorrow morning well rested.”

She couldn’t help it.  With a tired smile, she leaned over and placed a kiss on Mike’s cheek. 

“Thank you Mike.  I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She shuffled back towards the locker room and picked up her bag and jacket and headed back towards the entrance. 

“Doctor Hooper?”

The bright sun, cool breeze and a woman’s voice almost did her in as she stepped out of Bart's and into the morning sun.  Raising a hand to shade her eyes, she spotted a copper haired woman standing in the courtyard. 

“Yes?”

The woman smiled.  “Hello.  I’m Eugenia Masterson.  I’ve been hired as Rosie’s part time nanny.”  She nodded towards the sleek black car idling at the curb.  “If you’ll follow me, I can get you references.”

Molly hesitated.  She wasn’t sure who this woman was nor was she really inclined to get into a car with said woman especially since she had no prior warning from Mycroft about her. 

As if hearing her hesitant thoughts, the back door to the car opened and Anthea poked her head out. 

“Good morning Doctor Hooper. Can we give you a ride home?”

Molly relaxed, looking back at the nanny.  “Yes, sorry.  I didn’t…”

“I understand Doctor Hooper, I’d be hesitant if a strange person walked up with me and told me they were taking over an important part of my life.”  She waved towards the car.  “Shall we?”

 

* * *

 

By the time the car pulled to her house, the entire affair had been completely quite exponentially.  Anthea told her that it was a very recent development and that Mycroft had just signed off approval not moments before Molly had walked out into the morning sun.  Dana had suggested Eugenia which explained why the woman was at the hospital with Anthea before the ink was dry on her contract.  She was to start tomorrow morning; working from Molly’s house from the hours of eight in the morning to eight in the evening until such time that John was finally able to take over care of his daughter and then she would continue her duties in his home.  Any variation of those terms would meet with her approval first.  Her qualifications were almost as good as Dana’s; the woman was trained in security, had a degree in education, could speak several languages and had high security clearance.  Just like that, Rosie had a nanny, Molly could get some sleep and Rosie was more or less out of danger.

She thanked Anthea and Eugenia and stepped out of the car and into her house.  She stumbled in, setting the security before dropping everything onto the floor and stumbling into the living room.  She couldn’t even make it up the stairs, she was so tired.  She landed on the couch and promptly fell asleep.

 

* * *

 

She awoke to a darkened house.  Yawning, she sat up and turned on a table lamp.  She was still exhausted but was coherent enough to grab something small to eat before climbing the stairs to her room. 

As she walked into the kitchen to make a quick supper, she checked her phone.

 

**Apologies for not informing you in a more timely manner regarding Agent Masterson.  MH**

 

She smiled as she pulled out sandwich makings. 

 

**Thank you for finding her.  She and Anthea took care of everything.  She seems nice. Mx**

**Truth told, Agent Morris and Anthea took care of everything, I merely signed off on it.  I do hope she helps. MH**

**You do too much.  Relax. MH**

 

She ate the sandwich, washing it down with a glass of milk and shut off the light, heading upstairs to her room.  Her phone beeped letting her know she had a text. 

 

**Save this address SH**

 

The next text was an address just outside London.

 

**In two weeks from today, I need you to be at this address at one-twelve pm with an ambulance. SH**

 

She frowned. One twelve pm was an oddly specific time.

 

**What’s going on?  Why do you need an ambulance? Mx**

**Is everything okay?  Do I need to come there now? Mx**

**Where are you? Mx**

**Molly, do you trust me? SH**

**About important things.  Do you trust me? SH**

**Yes. Mx**

**I’ll explain everything when I see you on that day. SH**

**I’m about to go on a case so I’ll be incommunicado until that time. SH**

**This is very important Molly. SH**

**Ok.  I’ll be there.  But you’d better explain everything! Mx**

**Promise. SH**

**Oh, thank you for answering your text timely. SH**

 

She smiled tiredly. 

 

**Smartarse Mx**

**Only for you Molly Hooper. SH**

 

 

* * *

 

At exactly eight am the next morning, Eugenia was at Molly’s door, bag in hand, ready to start the day.  Greg had dropped a sleepy Rosie off around seven and they’d talked about the her over coffee while Rosie ate some breakfast.  The redhead stepped into the kitchen, smiling pleasantly at Lestrade before eyeing her charge who was gnawing on a teething biscuit. 

“Oh what a little beauty.”  She cooed, sitting down and giving Rosie a smile.  Rosie, for her part, returned Eugenia’s smile with a bright messy biscuit covered one of her own and Eugenia laughed lightly. “I believe you and I are going to get along famously young miss.”

“Oh, this is Detective Inspector Lestrade,”  Molly introduced as Greg gave a wave. “I can show you around if you like.”  Molly said, putting down her coffee cup. 

“I’ll keep an eye on the princess,”  Greg offered as Eugenia stood up, placing a light hand over the blond tuffs of hair on Rosie’s head. 

Molly pointed towards the right of the kitchen island.  “There’s a door to the back garden just there.  Outside there’s a swing set if you want to take Rosie out for some air when it gets warmer.  There’s also a covered sandbox but I doubt you’ll be using that.”

At Greg’s confused look she shrugged.  “Will loves the sandbox.  He likes to pretend it’s the beach.”

She led Eugenia into the sitting room where some of William’s old baby toys were laying out. “There’s telly here and some toys she likes to play with.  There’s also a couple of books, she loves listening to people read to her and looking at the bright pictures.”  She climbed the stairs, the nanny following.  “There’s a tabby around here, Toby.  Not sure if you like cats or not. He usually won’t come out while Rosie’s up; not too fond of little ones.”

She stepped to the right and opened a door. 

“Right now this is Rosie’s room.  All of her clothing are in those two drawers and all the supplies are here.  Extra sheets and blankets are in that wardrobe.”

Eugenia stepped into the room and looked around. 

“This is a lovely room.”

Molly smiled tightly.  “Thank you.  Please leave this door closed when Rosie isn’t in it.  Toby had a habit of sleeping in the crib, it has the best placement of afternoon sunlight.”  As they stepped out, she pointed to the partially opened door on the left.  “That door can stay open, chances are Toby is in there and will remain in there while Rosie is awake.  There’s a loo in my room and another downstairs just past the hallway.  There’s a smallish park down the lane with a small lake that usually had ducks.  It also had a playground and a small group of regular mums that spend the afternoon down there. Other than that, um…I guess call me if there are any other concerns?”

Eugenia smiled pleasantly as they returned down to the main floor.  “Doctor Hooper, there won’t be any problems.   I’ll see you tonight when you get home.  Have a lovely day.”

Lestrade was in the foyer holding a now clean Rosie when they came down the stairs.  “I can drop you off at Bart's, Molls.”  He offered as he handed Rosie over to Eugenia’s care.

“Thanks Greg.”  She kissed Rosie’s cheek and the baby squealed in delight, blowing raspberries in return. “Be good Rosie-kins and I’ll see you tonight.”

She waited until the door to her house was shut and they were heading towards Greg’s squad car. 

“How’s John doing?”

“About the same,”  he admitted as he held the door open for her.  He didn’t speak again until he was settled in the driver’s side and had started the car.  “He hardly leaves the house, just wanders around it lost.  I suggested maybe he go see someone.”  He gave her a quick glance as he pulled onto the highway.

“How’s Sherlock?”

She shrugged.  “I got a text from him last night.  He said he has a case and will be out of contact for the next two weeks.”

“Must be one of Mycroft’s, we have nothing brewing.”

“It’s just odd.  He asked me to meet him in two weeks with an ambulance.”

“You think he’s expecting trouble?”

Again she shrugged, looking out the window.  “It’s Sherlock. One never knows what to expect.”

 

 

 


	44. Chapter 44

_Two weeks later:_

 

She was going to kill him. 

If he didn’t finally manage to kill himself, she’d bloody well finish the job for him.

 

She arrived at the given address at exactly one-twelve in the afternoon as requested.  With the exception of the Aston Martin parked rather precariously in the middle of the front lawn and the couple of police cars blocking it in, the neighborhood looked rather quiet.  She hopped out of the back of the ambulance, leaving it open and walked to the door and rang the bell. 

She was not expecting John Watson to pull open the door with an exasperated expression on his face.

“Oh, hello.  Is, er…I’m sorry, Sherlock asked me to come.”

This was the most animated she’d seen John since he’d finally shown up at her house the middle of last week, looking repentant.

 

_“Afternoon Molly.”_

_She stood in the doorway, Rosie in her arms.  His eyes were fixated on his daughter._

_“I’m a cock, I know and I am so sorry.  May I come in?”_

_Wordlessly, she opened the door further to let him in and turned to walked back to the kitchen.  She could heard him following her, his footsteps halting suddenly when he spotted the other woman in the kitchen.  Eugenia looked up and gave him a tentative smile._

_“Good afternoon.”_

_“Hello.”_

_“John, this is Eugenia Masterson.  She is Rosie’s nanny.”_

_He blinked several times.  She thought this must be John’s version of Sherlock’s “buffering” mode._

_“I’m sorry…her what?”_

_“Her nanny.”  Eugenia said.  “Part time.  I’m here during the day while Doctor Hooper is at work.”_

_He looked from Molly to Eugenia and back.  She could tell he wasn’t sure if he should get angry or be thankful.  She decided to nip it before he did either._

_“I work John.  I couldn’t have stayed home all this time, and I’m sorry John, I had no idea when or even if you were ever going to come back for Rosie.  So I made some calls, turned in a favour or two and Eugenia was hired.  Rosie adores her.”_

_John’s lip curled.  “Called in favours?  How many were from h **im**?” The last word was spit out in disdain.  Molly gave him a hard look, passing a laughing Rosie off to Eugenia._

_“None.  I’ve done what you asked regarding Rosie, John.  But over my years I have acquired enough favours from the British Government.  Enough that I was able to acquire someone to watch over Rosie when I couldn’t.  You’d be a fool to let her go.”_

_“I can’t afford her.”_

_“You don’t have to.  It’s taken care of. They were my favours to call in, John, not yours.  You owe nothing.”_

 

Now he stood before her on the other side of the door looking frustrated and angry.

“What, two weeks ago?”

The question caught her off guard.

“Yeah, about two weeks.”

A scruffy and bedraggled Sherlock appeared in the doorway; eyes bloodshot, dressing gown half on his thin shoulders covering wrinkled clothing.  She’d seen that look before and her heart sank. 

“If you’d like to know how I predict the future…”

“No, I don’t care how!”  John snarled.  She winced but Sherlock looked unfazed.

“Okay, a fully equipped ambulance.  Molly can examine me on the way, it’ll save time.  Ready to go Molly?”

It was her turn to be gob smacked.  She wasn’t sure what the hell was going on. 

“Um, well…”

He turned his gaze on her, dark and sultry, his lips curled up in an almost smirk.  His eyebrows raised waggle suggestively.

“Just tell me when to cough.  I hope you remembered my coat.”

He stumbled past her towards the ambulance leaving her stammering on the front porch.  Behind John she could see Mrs. Hudson looking worried and whom she assumed was the owner of this house, watching the proceedings with some interest.  Their eyes met briefly before she looked back at John.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were going to be here.  Absolutely no idea what’s going on.”

The anger had dissipated slightly and now he just looked resigned.

Sherlock’s using again.”

Her eyes widened.  She suspected from his appearance but to have it confirmed.

“Oh god!  Um, are…are you sure?”

“No, it’s Sherlock, of course I’m not sure.  Check him out, will you?”

Nodding, she gave him one last look before turning and heading back towards the ambulance.

Climbing in, she shut the door to the ambulance and, passing Sherlock, walked to the front to bang on the front opening. 

“Back to Bart's.”

“No!”  Sherlock yelled.  “We’re going to Elstree Centre.”

The EMT in the front glance from Sherlock to Molly.  “You’re the Doctor.”

She turned to look at the man sitting on the stretcher.  He stared calmly back.  She sighed heavily, looking back at the man in the front.

“Elstree Centre.  Front entrance.”

The man nodded, shutting the partition and giving them some privacy.  She plucked a pair of gloves from the wall as the ambulance began to move and walked carefully towards him.  He eyed her. 

“I really don’t need an examination.”

“I don’t care what you say you need.  So shut up, give me the list and  pull up your sleeves.”

He raised an eyebrow as he pulled a piece of paper from his dressing gown pocket and handed it over.  “Would you like me to drop trou also?”

“Only if you’ve been shooting up in your scrotum.”  She yanked his arm towards her and ran her fingers over the line of needle marks in his inner arm, cataloging the almost blown veins in both.  “Dammit Sherlock, you said you were on a case!”

“I am.”

“Getting high does not constitute a case!”  Her nerves were shot, she was close to tears and she absolutely could not take any more of his antics.  “Unless the case is how to kill yourself with heroin in less than a month!”

He shut his mouth, letting her take some blood and check his vitals.   He submitted to the remainder of her examination, the tension palpable inside the small area. 

“I’m sorry,”  his voice was quiet, calm, sincere.  “Believe me when I say this is all for a case I was given.”

“By whom?”

Bloodshot eyes looked up at her.  “Mary.”

The name was like a shot in her heart.  Her fingers clamped tightly around his forearms and his fingers in turn wrapped around hers. 

“I can’t tell you everything right now, it will take too long and we don’t have much time.  But I promise you, when this is all over, I will tell you everything.”

“Mary wouldn’t want this, Sherlock.  She’d kill you herself if she knew what you were doing?”  Her voice was rough as she fought to hold back tears. 

“Nevertheless, she did task me with a case and this is the only way I know how to do it.”

She pulled away from him.  “You need fluids.  We don’t have enough time to set up an IV.”  Digging in one of the fridges, she pulled out a bottle of water and handed it to him.  “Drink it all, quickly.  Before we get to Elstree because I have a feeling you’re not going to let me take you to the closest A&E.”

He took the bottle, fingers brushing against hers.

“Thank you, Molly Hooper.”

She leaned against one of the shelves as he chugged down the bottle, neither of them saying anything.

“Why have you never used your gift?”

 Her eyes flew up to his. 

“I am not discussing this with you right now.  Not when you’re like this.”

“I’m genuinely curious.”

“How are you so sure I haven’t?”

His eyes scanned her body, looking for answers.  Finally he looked back up at her face. 

“It would be obvious had you gone through with it; your clothing, your weight, the fact that everyone would know…”

“The fact that you can call the office where you made the um, the…deposit and ask?”

He shook his head.  “No, I did everything under the instructions that only you would have full control of everything once I left that office.  I retained absolutely no rights to anything.  But everyone would know.”

“Would they?”

His gaze went to her stomach again.  “Did you?”

“Look at you Sherlock, you’re a bloody mess and half dead.  How could I even think of doing anything like that while you’re like this?”

“What does my state of being have to do with your choices?”

Her mouth tightened. She’d gotten her answer and William would be devastated.  She leaned forward, her hands gripping his upper thighs tight enough that he winced. 

“You are bloody Sherlock Holmes.  Any child of yours would automatically become a target, whether you were involved in their life or not.  If I were to make a decision like that, I would have to think long and hard on if I was willing to live with the constant threat just to have your child.”

His eyes lifted to her again, catching her gaze.  Her breath caught in her throat as she realized just how close they were; high or not, the man was still breathtakingly gorgeous and the love of her stupid, bloody life.

“What if I were?”

Her brows furrowed. 

“In their life?  What if I were?”

She swallowed hard.  “Don’t say things you don’t mean Sherlock.”

“Not with you.  Not anymore.”

She stared into those blue-green eyes, bloodshot and haggard, looking at her in all sincerity.  She wasn’t sure if this was part of the high or not and she wasn’t willing to take the chance.  With a deep breath she straightened up as she felt the ambulance slowing down. 

“I told you, I’ll not have this talk while you’re like this.  Sober up, and stay clean. Then we’ll revisit this discussion.

He sat back, eyes lowered to his lap.  He began shrugging off the dressing gown as the ambulance slowed to a stop and struggled to lean over to pick up the Belstaff without tumbling off of the gurney.  Sighing, she picked up the great coat and held it out.  He took it, his fingers brushing against hers. 

“You’ll tell John I’m death warmed over?”  His voice was soft, tentative.

“You are death warmed over.”

“Please help me Molly.” 

She stared at him, the man she loved, looking broken and defeated and strung out.  Reaching out, her hand brushed gently across his shoulder causing him to look up at her. 

“You have to promise me this is the last time Sherlock.  I can’t go through another relapse.  You can’t go through another relapse.  This had been three binges in less than a year, your body cannot handle anymore.”

“I can promise that I will do my best to abide by your request.”  He answered honestly. 

“Fine.  Then yes, I’ll tell John the truth.”

He smiled at her, his lips turned up in a genuine smile. 

“You walk with angels Molly Hooper.”

Designing not to answer, she walked to the door to open them leaving him to struggle getting his coat on.  She sat down on the edge of the ambulance and watched a sleek black car, not unlike what she was used to seeing pull up in front of her house, pull up next to the ambulance.  The door opened and John stepped out, making a beeline towards her.

“Well, how is he?”

She looked up at him, suddenly tired. 

“Basically fine.  I’ve seen healthier people on the slab.”

She heard him speak from inside the ambulance.

“Yeah, but to be fair, you work with murder victims.  They tend to be quite young.”

“Not funny.”  She directed towards the approaching footsteps.  His feet appeared next to her as he attempted to climb out of the back of the ambulance without falling on his face.

“A little bit funny.”

He made it off the back and onto the parking lot without falling.

“If you keep taking what you’re taking at the rate you’re taking it, you’ve got weeks.”

“Exactly weeks!  Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

She shot to her feet watching him stumble around like a drunk, the sudden anger from before directed at him returning at full force. 

“For Christ’s sake, Sherlock, it’s not a game!”

He turned around, still a bit wobbly and looked at her, head cocked and eyes narrowed as if he was surprised at her sudden outburst.  Anymore she wasn’t sure what was an act and what wasn’t.

“I’m worried about you Molly, you seem very stressed.”

“I’m stressed, you’re dying!”  she shot back.  His lips quirked up.

“Yeah, well, I’m ahead then.  Stress can ruin every day of your life.  Dying can only ruin one.”

Oh how her fingers itched to slap him again.   John stepped towards them, his features resigned.

“So this is real? You’re actually out of control?”

“When have I ever been that?”

His attention turned from her to dismissing John with every question the man asked.  She watched tiredly as he bantered back and forth with his frustrated best friend, a man who looked like he was on the end of his rope with what he would take from Sherlock Holmes. 

A short smarmy man in suit she recognized as Culverton Smith, followed by a bevy of assistants approached them and Molly stepped back out of the limelight, noticing distractedly that when Sherlock had turned around to address the man, he’d stepped right in front of the man’s vision of both she and John, effectively blocking them.  John, of course, stepped forward but she remained where she was watching as Culverton effectively smooshed the strung out Detective, patting him on the back and guiding him towards the large building in front of them.  Before they’d taken a step, Sherlock turned back to shoot a look at John.  His gaze drifted towards her and sharpened as if trying to tell her something. 

Then they both were gone, caught up in a crowd of assistance, leaving Molly to stand there alone next to an ambulance feeling a little dizzy. 

Slowly, she climbed back into the back of the ambulance and shut the doors.  The partition opened and one of the EMT’s looked back at her.

“Doc?”

She sat down heavily on the same gurney Sherlock had occupied.  “Take us back to Bart’s, I’ll cleaned up back here.”

As the ambulance drove off back to Bart's, she pulled the list Sherlock had given her out of her lab coat along with her phone and dialed a number. 

“Mycroft?  I have the list and a blood sample.  I should be back at Bart's in about fifteen if you want to pick it up.”


	45. Chapter 45

**AN: I changed a couple of things around.  Like the time frame for the end of TLD in this chapter.  Because any way I did the timeline, the end of TLD could not have ended on January 6th.  So I kept his birthday, just changed "whose" birthday it actually was without mentioning the person because Sherlock never actually said it was his birthday, he just said "thank you".**

* * *

 

 

Mycroft met her at Bart's to pick up the list.  All in all the entire appointment took less than two hours from start to finish.  The man glanced at the list before sliding it into his inner suit pocket. 

“Please let me know what is happening.”  She said before she shut the door to his car.  He hesitated a moment before nodding.  She stepped back as the car drove off.  A moment later her phone beeped. 

 

**Sending a cleaning crew to Baker Street.  Will contact you when I find anything. MH**

 

She smiled absently at the message before slipping the phone back into her pocket and returning to work.

* * *

 

The rest of the evening went quietly.  She finished her shift, headed home, made dinner and shared with Toby, who deemed it safe to venture out into the main part of the house and sit on the couch with her while she watched whatever happened to be on the telly and absently petted him. 

The next morning she awoke to messages from Mycroft and John.

 

**It seems my brother was once again correct.  MH**

 

There was a link attached to the message and she clicked it.  It took her to the front page The Telegraph.  The front headline screamed out at her:

 

**Billionaire and philanthropist Colverton Smith accused of the murder of dozens of patients and attempted murder of famed consulting detective Sherlock Holmes.**

 

She choked back her horror, closing out of the link and switching to John’s text.

 

**Not sure if you saw.  We’re fine.  The git is fine.  Have favour to ask, will call in morning. JW**

 

She didn’t even bother to wait for him to call, she dialed his mobile as she got dressed.  It rang twice before he answered, sounding half asleep.

“Hello?”

She winced.  “Sorry, did I wake you?”

“Molly?  Christ what time is it?  Oh hell, Eugenia will be here soon.  No, no it’s fine.”  She heard movement like him shuffling out of bed and moving around.  “Have you left your house yet?”

“Not yet, why?  What do you need?”

“I’m not sure what you’ve heard yet, but Sherlock’s fine.  He’s supposed to be released from St. Luke’s this morning, Mycroft is picking him up.”

Her feet stopped on the way down the stairs.  “St. Luke’s?  Why is he in hospital again?”

“There was a little issue.  Culverton Smith tried to kill him.  He was pretty banged up and the hospital kept him on watch overnight just in case.”

“John…”

“It’s fine Molly, nothing to worry about.  But he’s insistent on rehabbing at home, he swears that he can do it and Mycroft is going to let him.  I’m going over later this morning to keep an eye on him, normally I’d ask Mrs. Hudson since she’s just downstairs but her nerves are shot after these past two weeks so…would you be willing to go to Baker Street and keep an eye on him tonight?  Maybe for the next couple of nights?”

She was almost at the bottom of the stairs.  Turning around, she headed back up to her bedroom, her mind already running through comfortable clothing that she could wear after work for an evening at Baker Street. 

“Um…yeah, yeah I can do that.  What do I need to do?”

“Nothing much, just keep an eye on him.  And make sure he takes his medication, he’ll complain because he’s trying to go cold turkey but his injuries need the pain medication.  And maybe help him once in a while, especially if he’s been in one position for too long.”

She threw some clothes in an overnight bag as he talked but now she stopped, a shirt half in her hand. 

“What the hell did that monster do to him?”

“Well…he was kind of injured before Smith tried to kill him.”

“He was bad when I examined him but he wasn’t that injured.”

“You’ll see when you get to Baker Street tonight.”

She shoved the shirt into the bag and zipped it up.  “Yeah, all right.  I get off work at four this afternoon, is that fine?”

“Yeah, that’s great.  Thanks so much Molly, it’ll only be for a couple of days until Mycroft deems him okay to not have a constant watch.  I’ll see you after four then?”

She hung up with him and immediately texted Mycroft back as she hurried out the door.

 

**Have you picked him up yet?  How bad is it?  I want his file. Mx**

**I see he’s contacted you. MH**

**No, John did.  It seems I’m Sherlock sitting tonight. Mx**

**Tell me the truth Mycroft, how bad is it? Mx**

**I’m on my way to fetch him now.  I don’t know.  I will bring you his file and keep you appraised. MH**

**Keep me apprised on his activities during your watch. MH**

**Of course. Mx**

 

* * *

 

Her phone rang signaling a message as Molly was saying goodbye to Mike and shouldering her bags.  She pulled the mobile from her jacket pocket.

 

**Change of plans.  Meet us at Bea’s for cake. JW**

**Did you know it was Sherlock’s birthday? JW**

 

The back to back texts caught her off guard as did the final text from John.  Sherlock’s birthday was the sixth of January.  He didn’t like making a fuss over it so usually she just quietly dropped off a cupcake or something small in his area when he wasn’t looking.  It was well into the middle of April now so why John would think that…did he actually not know Sherlock’s birthday?  She shot off a quick text of confirmation and headed towards the train that would take her to Baker Street. 

She spotted them as she stepped into the bakery.  John glanced over at the door and lifted a hand in greeting as she approached.  The closer she got to the table, the more Sherlock’s injuries were apparent.  He was sitting delicately on the chair, hunched over as if his ribs hurt.  His head was lowered as if to hide his face and he was, for some reason, wearing that ridiculous deerstalker.

“Sorry I’m late,”  she announced as she reached the table and sat down, dropping her bag at her feet.  There was a strawberry and cream cupcake on the table in front of her as well as a pot of tea.  “Oh, this looks lovely, I…”

Her voice trailed off as she looked up and finally caught sight of his face.  Her own eyes widened as she catalogued the bruising on his cheek and hairline as well as the blood red left eye that denoted lack of oxygen to the brain.  His eyes narrowed in warning and she swallowed back every comment that was about to spill out of her mouth determined to ask him later. 

“Did you know today was Sherlock’s birthday, Molly?”  John asked, trying to move to something lighter.  Slowly Molly looked from John and back to Sherlock who’s warning stare had changed to one that was silently telling her to play along. 

“Um…no, I didn’t.  How did you find out?”

“He got a text.”  John suddenly looked uncomfortable.

“Oh. Well…”  She gave a big smile and began to unwrap her cupcake.  “Happy birthday.  Sorry, I didn’t get you anything.”

“I’m sure John would agree that your willingness to put up with my antics is present enough.”   She could hear the roughness his voice, as if his throat was bruised also.  Taking a calming breath, she picked up the teapot and refilled his cup, following up with John’s so there wasn’t any suspicion.  He looked at her once more and she nodded towards the cup.  He picked it up and sipped at the hot liquid, wincing as they listened to John talk about Eugenia and Rosie.

Molly quietly ate her cake and drank her tea while listening to the two men talk; mostly John but Sherlock would put in his comments occasionally.  It looks as if the men were slowly rebuilding their friendship, no more of that glossing over and ignoring the problem, but rather, they might have worked it out.

A sobering thought came to her as she listen to them talk; how much of the working it out part did Sherlock currently wear on his body?

* * *

 

 

“Where is it?”

She kept her mouth shut throughout the cake and the walk back to Baker Street.  She said goodbye to John waiting until the men made plans for tomorrow and watched as John caught a taxi back to his house.  She kept her mouth shut as they entered Baker Street, and got caught by Mrs. Hudson who fussed over him until he waved her off, telling her that Molly would do enough of that tonight, he didn’t need her fussing also. 

She waited until the door to his flat was firmly shut and he had slipped off his coat.  She dropped her bag by the door and folded her arms as he turned to look at her questioningly.

“The envelope I know Mycroft dropped off her with you.  The one with my name on it, where is it?”

The eyebrow over his bad eye raised.  “Are you two in league to torment me?”

“You asked for my help Sherlock.  You promised you would tell me everything once the case was over.  The case is over, you almost died-again- so don’t play with me.  Where.  Is. The. Envelope?”

Silently he walked to the fireplace mantle and picked up a manila envelope and held it out.  She crossed the room and took it from him and saw down in John’s chair, not commenting on how carefully he maneuvered to sit in his own chair.  Opening the envelope, she scanned the file reading every injury in his chart, every blood test, every imaging scan, every physician note.  The flat was silent as she read. 

Finally, as she slid it all back into the envelope, she looked up at him, studying his face again. 

“How much of this was from Smith and how much of this was from John?”

“John had been understandably overwhelmed recently, not only with-“

“I didn’t ask for excuses.”  She snapped, interrupting him.  His mouth snapped shut and he eyed her blandly.  “I asked how much was from Smith and how much was from John.  I’ll not confront him with this, if that’s what you’re worried about.  I’m guessing he feels like shit in the aftermath and that’s between you and he to discuss.”

“My larynx, my eye and the fact that I’ve recently stopped pissing blood.  Although, to be fair, that might be a two-fold issue.”

She swallowed hard, relisting the injuries she read in his chart.  It took her a moment to speak. 

“I’ve half a mind to make you strip your shirt so I can catalogue your injuries myself, but that would be redundant as a qualified doctor had already checked you and I’m afraid I couldn’t be as impartial as I would like.”

He grinned. 

“That isn’t what I meant.”  But his grin had the desired effect.  “Is there anything you need?”

He shook his head.  “Not at present, no.  I suppose you want to know everything now?”

“If you’re tired, I can wait.”  She suggested.  He shook his head. 

“I’m fine right now.  Best not to delay the inevitable.”

 


	46. Chapter 46

The first night went well.  Sherlock took his medicine with minimal fuss, ate some biscuits to keep down the medicine and shuffled off to bed when she insisted he get some rest.  She spent the night on the couch, covered with a throw, setting her alarm to wake her up in time to get ready for work. 

The next morning she was awake and dressed before Mrs. Hudson came up with the morning tea.   Molly plucked a scone from the tray as she grabbed her bag. 

“Are you sure you’re okay to keep an eye on him Mrs. Hudson?  He really wasn’t any trouble last night, he just needs his pills this morning, don’t let him insist he doesn’t need them.  John should be around soon.”

“I’m fine dear, head off to work now.  I have him well in hand.”

She smiled and gave the older woman a nod.  There were still a couple of hours before she had to be at work, enough time to go home and pack clothes and items for the next two days so she wouldn’t have to keep running home after spending the night on Baker Street. 

She packed her bag, made sure Toby had food enough for the next couple of days and headed to work. 

 

* * *

 

Night two was worse.

She knew it was going to be the bad day when she stepped into the flat to find John asleep in his chair and Sherlock pacing the floor in his dressing gown muttering under his breath.

“For Christ’s sake!”

John startled awake.  Molly dropped her bag by the door and hung up her coat before heading straight towards where Sherlock was pacing.  He stopped in mid-pace and began backing up, eyeing her warily. 

“What’s going on?”

“Go away, I’m in the middle of something!”  Sherlock suddenly shouted.  Her hand shot out grabbing ahold of his arm.  He tugged halfheartedly and John stood from his chair. 

“Wha-“  he started.  She pulled up his dressing gown sleeve, grabbed the edge of the nicotine patch that was on his arm and yanked it away. 

“Dammit woman, unhand me!”  he shouted as she pulled up the other sleeve and did the same thing. 

“Cold turkey means just that!”  she shouted back as she waved the patches at him.  “No drugs of any kind!  Nicotine is a drug!”

John sighed, running a hand over his face.  “For Christ’s sake Sherlock.”

“I just needed something to calm down.”  He insisted watching her carefully. 

“Are you wearing any others?”  she asked.  “Do I need to have you strip?  Does John need to do a body check because I sure the hell am not.”

“What?  No, you tyrant, those were the last two I had.  You’re being cruel Molly Hooper.”

“This is not me being cruel.  Me being cruel is walking right out that bloody door and not giving a toss if you kill yourself.”  She stormed through the kitchen and threw the offending patches away.  “You said you could do this Sherlock.  You boast of having the willpower and mental capacity to withstand anything, but you can’t best this?”  She stormed back into the sitting room, causing both Sherlock and John to step back against her anger.  “Shall I just call Mycroft and tell him you’re too weak to do this on your own, that you need rehab?”

Her verbal taunt emboldened him.  Eyes narrowed-his left eye was less red today she noticed- he took one determined step towards her. 

“Interesting how you and my brother seem to be such close friends now.”  He sneered, taking another deliberate step towards her.   “One wonders how much time you’ve spent discussing me.”

“Are you throwing a tantrum?”  she shot back. “Is this you throwing a tantrum because the people who care for you aren’t allowing you to have your way?  Because this looks like a tantrum a toddler would throw minus the actual throwing yourself onto the floor and having a good cry of it.”

John looked between the two of them and took another step back. 

“Right, well, you look like you have this well in hand Molly.  I’m just going to head home and see my daughter.  See you tomorrow Sherlock?  Okay then.”

He hurried out of the flat before anyone could say anything.  Not that either of them were willing to stand down from their stare off.

“I am not acting like a toddler and I resent the implications of you treating me as such.”  He snapped.

“Would you like to stomp your foot and yell  _No_  right now or would flopping yourself into your chair work just as well?”  she asked dryly. 

He had to stop himself from doing either of those.  Instead he stomped past her into the kitchen. 

“I’m making tea!”  He yelled back at her.  “Would you like some?”

“Please.”

He stomped back into the sitting room a few moments later with two cups of tea to find her standing by his chair with his violin in her hands. 

“What are you doing?”

“You want something to occupy our mind?”  She held out the instrument.  “Play away.”

Putting down the two cups, he took the instrument from her hands, looking at it. 

“Perhaps after tea.”

Just like that, the argument was over.

* * *

 

**How is he doing? MH**

 

The question came on day three while she was work.  Despite Sherlock’s accusation that she and Mycroft were working together towards some nefarious plot to keep tabs on him, she actually hadn’t talked to the eldest Holmes’ brother since the day Sherlock was being released from hospital.

 

**Last night started bad but it leveled out.  Mx**

**Oddly enough, I’ve found that if I treat him exactly as I treat William, he’s surprisingly easy to manage. Mx**

**I won’t be buying him presents and offering snuggles. MH**

 

Molly snickered at the mental image of Sherlock sitting on Mycroft’s lap.  Her mobile beeped again.

 

**Stop it. MH**

 

That made her giggle even more.

“It’s nice to hear you laugh again.” 

Molly bit her lip to quell her giggles as Mike walked through the double doors of the lab.  “Afternoon Mike, what has you here this late?”

“I offered to work the evening shift as Doctor Mason has a family emergency.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry Mike, normally I’d do it but…”

“Don’t worry about it Molly, I can work an evening shift.  How is Sherlock doing?”

“Better.  He doesn’t need the pain pills as much anymore and I think he should be well back to normal by tomorrow or the next.”

“Good, that’s good to hear.  Well, I’m here now so if you want to finish up and pop out.  Enjoy your day off tomorrow?”

“Yeah, let me finish these last two tests and I’ll get out of your hair.”

Mike patted her shoulder as he passed her to get the orders from the fax.  “You’re never in my hair Molly.”

 

 

* * *

 

She should have known that putting him off would only deter him temporarily. 

She sat in John’s chair, dressed in sweats and a tee shirt- her night clothes for the last two days- reading when Sherlock suddenly put down his violin and climbed over the back of his chair to sit with his knees up by his chin.  She glanced up over the book at him. 

“You look as if you’re hurting less.”

“I’m clean.  Or at least clear headed, so we can discuss it now.”

She frowned, the book she held falling into her lap.  “What are you on about now?”

He waved a hand in her direction.  “You said we couldn’t talk about it while I was like that.  So now I’m clean and we can talk about it.  Why haven’t you used your gift?  Or have you and you’re just not telling me what the results are.”

She blinked.  She wasn’t expecting to be blind sighted with this so soon after the incident.  Honestly the only times he brought it up were when he was going to his death or when he was high.  So, sober she was fully expecting him to ignore the issue like he did everything else.   Sitting back and closing the book, she looked at him.  If he was going to bring it up then maybe she could figure out why he did it in the first place. 

“There aren’t any results.  I can promise you I’m not at all pregnant.”  She continued before he could speak again.  “Why did you do it?”

He blinked, his feet falling from the chair to the floor. 

“Why?”

“Yes.  I’ve always wanted to know.  You have to understand you owed me nothing for my part in that.  I was happy to help.  As long as you and those you loved were going to be safe then I would’ve done anything you asked.  So why leave something so…personal?”

She could see his brain buffering, trying to figure out a way to either answer or evade.  She was betting on evading. 

“If you’re going to ask me such a personal question as why I haven’t used your gift, then surely you can answer my equally personal question of why you gave me such a personal gift in the first place?”

“I…I don’t know.”

“You…don’t…know?  You know everything, you plan out and can map for every eventuality. Nothing you ever do it mere chance or coincidence.”

“Except that.”  He admitted quietly.  “I…I don’t know why.  I didn’t know how long it would take or even if I would be coming back.  You did so much for me Molly, I…”  he swallowed hard.  “I wasn’t as nice to you…back then, as I could’ve been.  I didn’t discount you, but I did dismiss you at times. After everything you did, everything you were willing to sacrifice, for me…I…. couldn’t be…what you wanted, but I…”  he trailed off, his brow furrowed, his nose wrinkling up as he tried to explain his reasoning behind his motives.  At that moment he looked exactly like William when he was trying to figure out what he wanted.  Her heart melted and she couldn’t help but smile.  He looked up in time to catch her soft smile.    
“What?  What did I say?”

“It’s fine Sherlock.  You don’t have to try to explain.  I think I understand.  You’re my friend.  We’re friends, Sherlock and that’s okay.  Trust me, I appreciate the gift, very much and one day…”  she trailed off, not wanted to actually lie to him but willing for him to interpret his own conclusions.

He looked at her, his eyes piercing as if studying her. 

“Molly…”  he hesitated as if not quite sure what he wanted to say to her. Smiling, she stood up from the chair and took the two steps to his chair.   Bending down, she pressed a kiss to his forehead. 

“I’m going to make tea, would you like some?”

“Please.”

She found two cups and made them tea, coming back into the sitting room with the tray and some biscuits she’d found.   She handed him a cup and retook her place back in the chair. 

“Tell me about Mary.”

His cup stopped halfway to his lips as his gaze lifted to meet hers. 

“The things you know about her.  I only know what I saw.  The woman who was clever and a mum and had a wicked sense of humour.  I don’t know the Mary you and John knew, the one who was an ex-assassin or went on cases with you two and was just as eager for the chase as the two of you are.  Tell me about that Mary.”

He smiled, took a sip and began telling her about the other side of Mary she’d never gotten to see.  She sat back in the chair and listened to stories about how amazing her friend was.

 

* * *

 

She was warm.  Warm and comfortable and so very sleepy.  It was her day off, she could curl up under these covers, fade back into the darkness and not worry about anything for the rest of the day without one ounce of guilt. 

And yet, wakefulness struggled to make itself known.  She frowned, her eyes staying shut as she grabbed for the blankets and huddled further into them surrounded by the warmth and  the scents she found so comforting; wool, bergamot, wood oil.

_Except your house smells of vanilla and baby powder._ Her conscious mind stated rather matter of fact.

Her eyes shot open.  She was curled up in a bed, covers pulled up to her ears.  A bed she didn’t remember climbing into last night.  The last thing she remembered was curling up in John’s chair and closing her eyes as she listened to Sherlock’s voice. 

She froze.

This wasn’t her bedroom, this wasn’t even her house.  There was also a suspicious lump in the bed next to her. 

_Shit._

She didn’t want to move, she was so comfortable; but she really needed to get the hell out of this room.  Especially if she was where she thought she was. 

Moving the covers carefully, she slid out of the bed.  She was still wearing her ragged tee shirt and sweatpants, which explained why she was so warm and comfortably toasty.  It did not explain, however, exactly why she was sleeping in Sherlock Holmes’ bed, with Sherlock.   He mumbled something in his sleep and she froze in her steps, watching him carefully as the lump moved slightly and then was still again before she finished making her way  towards the door. 

Once there, she chanced a look back.  He was still sound asleep, his body now sprawled across the bed as if he realized he had the bed to himself again.   His hair was a curly mess in his face wild and sticking up, his face was covered in day old scruff. The covers had been partially kicked off and while she could see he was wearing a tee shirt she wasn’t quite sure, by the bare leg sticking out under the covers, if she was wearing any sleep pants, or in fact, pants at all.

Face burning, she slid out of the bedroom before he woke up and caught her ogling him.

She had gotten dressed and had finished brushing her teeth when she heard the front door to the flat open and Mrs. Hudson’s voice.

“Morning!  I brought up some breakfast.”

“Morning Mrs. Hudson,”  Molly answered quietly, stepping into the kitchen.  “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble.”

“No trouble at all dear.  I figure if you’re nice enough to keep an eye on the grouch, you might as well get something nice for breakfast.”

“Well I appreciate it.”

Mrs. Hudson smiled as she placed the tray on the table.  “Always nice when someone appreciates it dear.  Oh, you look much better than you did when you came home.  Your eye’s even healed.”

Sherlock stumbled out of the bedroom in a tee shirt and boxers all covered with his usual dressing gown wide open, yawning and scratching at his wild hair.  He blinked sleepily at the two women in the kitchen, grunted something unintelligible and plopped himself at the kitchen table.

“Tea.”  He mumbled. 

“Not your housekeeper, dear.” 

“I have it Mrs. Hudson,”  Molly smiled.  “Thank you again for breakfast.”

Mrs. Hudson patted her cheek.  “Of course Molly dear.  I’ll talk to you later.”

Molly poured a cup of tea and slid it across the table before making her own and sitting down across from him. 

“Sorry if we woke you up.”

He took a swig, wrinkling his nose at the temperature.  “Was awake.  Heard you moving around.”

“Sorry about that.  I was trying to be quiet.”

His gaze landed on her as he took another drink.  “It’s much too early to be up, plus it’s your day off, so why are you?”

“Things I have to do.   You need your sleep.”

“I was sleeping just fine not twenty minutes ago.  Before you snuck out of the bed and failed miserably at being quiet.”

She felt her face get hot.  “I don’t remember how I… um…how I…”

He rolled his eyes as he took another drink.  “I carried you into bed.  You looked uncomfortable in the chair.  And as much as the couch is good for naps and sleeping a night or two on it, it is not designed for continued sleeping.  You needed a good night’s rest and it isn’t as if we haven’t slept together before.  Stop fretting over it.”

“Fine.  Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

She slid the tray of baked goods towards, her gaze locked on his.  “Eat something.”

His mouth lifted slightly as he plucked a scone from the tray.  “Then you’ll go back to bed?”

“Can’t.  I do have things to do today and besides, John will be here in an hour or two.”

His pout reminded her of William and he frowned and tilted his head questioningly when she giggled.

 


	47. Chapter 47

Peace reigned for exactly four days before all hell broke loose once again.

Sherlock was out of the woods; according to Mycroft.  John was back to working cases with Sherlock and Sherlock was back to working with Scotland Yard again with minor cases.  Minor for Sherlock meaning no cases where the actual fate of London or England rested in any one person’s hands. 

Molly was back at work, dealing with her schedule of autopsies of patients and cases from NSY as well as her usual orders and training of the new lab techs.  Mike had her back on the schedule for working evenings twice that week and both days went off rather quietly and without incident.

She had just finished working her first overnight in a while and was looking forward to having the next two days off.  Her washing was piling up and she needed to go to the store and pick up groceries and then she planned on relaxing.  No John, no Sherlock, no anyone.  Just her and Toby and a queue of shows she wanted to go through. 

She went home, did some laundry, cleaned the house and laid around for a bit.  It was afternoon when she decided she needed to actually get some groceries if she wanted to eat that night.  She put on her favorite sweater and went to the local grocery, deciding it was a nice enough day to walk, rather than rely on a taxi.  It was only a couple of blocks away, she could use the fresh air.    She took her time, there was no reason to rush.  It was her day off and so far it’s been peaceful.

As she was walking up her walk, the special phone rang.    Jiggling her bags around so she could grab it from her pocket, she found it and clicked the accept button. 

“Hello?  Sorry, Hi!”

The voice on the other end wasn’t Dana’s.

“Mummy!”  William’s excited voice came from the other end and she smiled. 

“Hello baby, where’s Dana?”

Her boy was not to be deterred.  “Mummy.  Home.”

Her heart clenched.  She held the phone to her ear with her shoulder as she unlocked the door to the house.  The inside of the house was quiet, as she had left it. 

“Will, where are you?”

“Mummy…home.  I come home.”

She stepped into the kitchen putting the bags on the counter and methodically began putting everything away as she listened to her son on the other end. 

“Baby.  Where is Dana?”

He began to cry and she began to panic.  “No Nana, Mummy…home!”

“Sweetheart, soon.  I promise.  Oh baby please don’t cry, I can’t bear it if you cry.”

She put up the final bag, leaning heavily against the counter as she listened to her son’s sobs grow more frantic. 

“Mummy, I go home,” he said between sobs.  She wiped away her own tears as she listened to him. 

“I know baby, I want you home.  I want you home so badly but we can’t yet.  Not yet.  But if you tell me where Dana is, she can set up something where I can come see you.”

“No Nana!”  his voice, while still tear filled, was adamant.  “You come.  I go home!”

“William…”

She could hear him building up to one of his tantrums.  “No!  I go home!  I go home, Mummy, I go home!”

The phone on his end beeped and she panicked.  She’d never heard the phone beep before on that end and she didn’t know what it meant.  Was someone tracking the phone?  How were they able to track the phone, Mycroft said there was no gps.  Was it a warning. 

“William!”  her voice was stern, trying to push back the fear that was threatening to choke her.  “William, I need to talk to Dana.”

“No!”  he screamed.  “No Nana!  I go home!”

In the background she could hear Dana’s voice calling from him.  He was still screaming and she clamped her eyes shut trying to hold back tears.  She was being emotionally ripped apart and there was nothing she could do to fix it. 

“William.  Okay.  Okay, baby.  I come.  I’ll come and find you, okay?  Mummy’s going to come and get you.”

His screams lessened and tears fell down her cheeks as she outright lied to her son. 

“Mummy…come?”

She fought back the sobs.  “I’ll come.”

Suddenly she heard Dana’s voice close to the phone and William’s screams started up again as he fought her for control of the phone.  She clutched at her own phone, one hand covering her mouth so he couldn’t hear her sobs.  Then Dana’s voice was on the other line. 

“Molly?  I’m so sorry Molly, he disappeared and I hadn’t realized he’d found the hiding place for it until I heard him yelling…”

“Dana,” she sobbed, knowing this was going to end bad.  “The phone beeped.  When he was on it, on your end, it beeped.”

There was silence for a moment and then Dana let out a curse. 

“Destroy your phone.  I’ll get in contact with you.”

The line went dead and Molly collapsed to the floor, clutching the burner and sobbing openly as the last line to her son was ripped from her grasp once again. 

 

* * *

 

The sun had dropped low into the western sky when she finally climbed to her feet and stumbled to the sink.  She leaned over it, wiping her face with a wet cloth. 

Tea.  She needed tea.

She set the kettle on the stove and walked back to the sink to stare out the window as she waited for the water to boil.  Emotionally, she was drained.  She was a string that had been frayed and pulled and tugged until she was barely hanging together.  She just wanted to sleep…sleep for her entire two days off, maybe more.  Maybe she’d just not go into work anymore and stay in bed until Dana and William came home.  Maybe she’d quit her job, moved to the country, change her name and go on a search for her missing child.  Except she wasn’t sure where Dana would go next.  Although maybe, she’d just quit her job, move to the country and change her name for the hell of it.  She had the funds, she had watched enough ridiculous espionage movies to figure out how to disappear.  She could disappear, who’d miss her?

Her phone rang and for a moment her heart leapt until she remembered it wasn’t the burner phone.  That one wouldn’t ring again.  Rising up from where she was bent over the sink she turned and walked to the counter where the phone was, glancing at the name on it. 

Sherlock.

_Nope._ Her weary brain decided.   _Don’t care what I said about answering his calls, I’m not doing it today._

She absolutely could not emotionally deal with whatever he wanted today.


	48. Chapter 48

Heads were going to roll. 

Anyone who even had a hint of being part of the party that checked Molly Hooper’s house for bugs and any location devices were not only going to be summarily fired but possibly brought up on treason and, if he could figure out a way to reinstitute it, hanged.

He was well aware of his nom de plume around the government; it was a joke to some, a challenge to others.  But as he watched the live feed in mute horror of the images of Molly’s kitchen, a kitchen he’d been in multiple times, and Molly Hooper who was steadfastly ignoring the ringing phone on the counter he truly felt as if his blood had turned to ice.  In front of him, standing before the screen, Sherlock was staring at the images in disbelief. 

“Why is she not answering her phone?”  he asked. 

“You never answer your phone.”  John retorted. 

“Yes, but it’s me!”  He exclaimed as if that made all the sense in the world.

The minute Sherlock and John had figured out whose casket it was in the middle of the room, Mycroft’s first thought was  _please not Algernon. She can’t know about Algernon._

It seemed, in this case, there was one thing that his clever baby sister didn’t, in fact, know.  Either that or she just wasn’t telling which didn’t make any sense because if she was out to hurt Sherlock, as he deduced she was-why else would she use Molly?- then she would have hit him with an unknown child.  Which meant, he prayed and he was not a praying man, that Eurus had no idea about William.  Which meant that he and Molly had so far managed to successfully pull off the biggest secret ever.

On the other side of the casket, John Watson folded his arms across his chest tightly, clearly uncomfortable with Eurus’ demands on her brother.  Mycroft himself was holding himself rather rigidly, unable to do anything but watch as Molly finally gave up and answered the phone.  He listened to Sherlock try his dead level best to remain calm in the face of, what Mycroft knew, was going to quickly spiral into a huge cock up. 

“I just need you to say something for me.”  Sherlock told her.  Mycroft’s gaze went from his brother’s rigid posture to Molly’s defeated one on the screen.  Something had happened; something bad from the look of her.  She’d mentioned at the beginning of the call that she was having a bad day but usually when it came to Sherlock she was able to push things aside and at least pretend everything was fine.  Even if they’d hadn’t been watching her on a screen, Mycroft would have known by the tone in her voice and her dismissive attitude that there was something terribly wrong.  The minute Sherlock said the release code she was to repeat back he saw her finally break apart.

Heads were going to roll.  If they wanted the ice man, he thought as he watched the mother of his nephew finally break apart on screen, they were going to bloody well get him.

 

* * *

 

She was done.   She couldn’t even pretend to be strong anymore.  Her second biggest secret ripped out over the phone for a bloody experiment?  He said they were friends but friends didn’t emotionally rip apart each other like this.

“Well if it’s true, say it anyway.”  His voice was so matter of fact, as if she hadn’t just revealed a universally acknowledged truth, that she couldn’t do anything but laugh. 

“You bastard.”

“Say it anyway.”  He repeated and she decided.  There was nothing to lose.  Her darling boy was gone, in the wind, his father suddenly wanted an acknowledgement of her affections for him in the most clinical and unfeeling way.  She had nothing else.  But she wasn’t going to bloody well say it first. 

“You say it first.”

There was a pause on the other end, and then his confused voice.

“What?”

“Go on-“  she egged him on, uncaring at the moment how she sounded.  She was going to hear those words from his mouth, just once, before she gave up entirely.  “Say it like you mean it.”

“I-“

She held the phone to her ear tightly, eyes closed, suddenly terrified that she would miss his words, that they’d be ripped from the phone and carried off by the wind before she could ever hear what those words sounded like from his lips to her ears. 

“I love you.”

Her breath caught in her throat and she allowed herself a smile. 

“I love you.”

The words came again, different.  Her eyes shot open and she looked at the phone.  He didn’t have to say the words twice, she was already well on her way to committing the first to memory.  But what he’d just said…rather how he said it…

She pulled the phone from her ear and looked at it as if she was able to see him through the cloud.  Sitting in either his flat or Scotland Yard, she really hoped he was alone, while having this conversation.  Although she wasn’t sure why he needed to hear her say it suddenly or why he was willing to say it first.  She really thought her demand of him saying it first would’ve deterred him. 

“Molly?”

His voice pulled her out of her thoughts and she blinked once.

“Molly, please!”

He sounded desperate.  She pulled the phone up, almost to her lips as if revealing a deep secret.  She was, in a way.  There was no going back. 

“I love you.”

She heard the exhalation of his breath and then…

Nothing.

She blinked again, hands shaking. 

“Sherlock?”

Nothing.

She looked at the phone.  The call had ended. 

Tears fell from her eyes unbidden and she collapsed to the floor again, the second time in an afternoon where someone she loved desperately had ripped her heart to shreds.  She wasn’t sure it would ever heal.

 


	49. Chapter 49

Her phone was ringing. 

She was one step away from throwing that damn phone across the room just for the satisfaction of watching it shatter into pieces.

It was dark outside when she moved the covers from her head to look at the phone.  It might have been Mycroft calling to tell her that he’d beaten down his brother for her.  She hadn’t told him what had happened but when it came to undeniably ridiculous things Sherlock did, he usually had a second sense about him. 

The phone read Eugenia’s name and she pulled it from its charging station and swiped it.

“Hello?”

“Hello Doctor Hooper,”  Rosie’s nanny said. “I’m sorry for calling so late, but Doctor Watson hasn’t returned home nor is he answering his phone.  Normally I would wait but I have an appointment this evening that I cannot miss.”

Molly looked at the close beside her bed. 

**9:15pm**

“I hate to ask but is there any way you can come relieve me?”  Eugenia was asking.  “Rest assured I will be having a conversation with Doctor Watson regarding his flagrant dismissal of my hours and if it were any other night but tonight I would be staying until he returned to have this conversation with him.”

“No, no, I understand.”  She threw back the covers and climbed out of bed.  “Give me twenty minutes?”

Eugenia’s voice sounded relieved.  “Thank you so much Doctor Hooper and again, I apologize that I had to call you with this.”

“Not at all Eugenia, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

She looked like death warmed over. 

She didn’t care.  Had she been in her jammies, she still would’ve gone over to the Watson’s without bothering to dress.  As it was all she did was slip on a pair of shoes and retie her hair into a sloppy ponytail before grabbing her bag and keys and calling for a taxi. 

After the phone call, she’d made up her mind.  She couldn’t do this anymore.  She couldn’t pretend everything was fine, be the support system for everyone else while she herself was crumbling.  Mike had been right, she’d reached her breaking point. 

So, she’d go over to John’s tonight and watch Rosie until he got home from wherever the hell he was- probably with Sherlock- and then she would come home, get some sleep and come tomorrow morning, she was packing a bag and leaving.  She wasn’t sure where to or how long, but she couldn’t stay in London anymore.

 

* * *

 

She met Eugenia at the door and the grateful if not annoyed nanny gave her a relieved thank you before hurrying towards the taxi waiting for her. 

The house was silent.  She moved through the flat, towards the back where Rosie’s room was.  The baby was sound asleep, soft breathing the only sound in the room.  Molly smiled fondly as she crossed the room to the crib.  Lifting the light blanket, she laid it over the sleeping infant and stroked her hair before leaving the room. 

She cleaned up a little, unconsciously done, nothing really, just a couple of cups and a plate to wash up.  She made herself a cup of tea and headed back into the sitting room to turn on the telly and wait for John to return home. 

 

* * *

 

The key in the lock woke her up.  She blinked sleepily, her heart pounding hard against her chest as she remember the outcome of this exact moment the last time it played out.  Throwing the blanket from her shoulders, she stood up and unconsciously brushed at her hair as John hurried through the front hallway.  He froze momentarily at the sight of her but them rushed forward, startling her with a tight hug and a soft sob of relief.  She wrinkled her nose at the smell of rotten water that permeated him but patted his back all the same. 

“Are you okay?”  she asked.  He pulled back with a wide grin and loudly kissed her cheek. 

“I am so glad to see you safe Molly.”  He said.  “I have to see Rosie.”

As quickly as he grabbed her, he let her go, rushing past her and heading towards his daughter’s room, leaving her a little dizzy and a lot confused. 

“Molly.”

She couldn’t help it, her back stiffened.  But she’d never heard him like this before.  She turned back towards the hallway and Sherlock stood there; same as always, staring intensely at her with an almost palatable relief.  She swallowed and opened her mouth to give him a polite greeting- she was in no way prepared for this meeting- when he suddenly strode across the room with quick steps, reaching her within seconds and staring down at her with the most un-Sherlock-like look. 

“I meant it.”

“Wha-“

“It was cruelly done and I can’t help that, I’ll explain later, but I meant it.  Every word.”

She stared at him uncomprehendingly.  Surely he didn’t mean…

His hands reached out and gripped her arms, his gaze not leaving hers.

“I love you, Molly Hooper.  Not like I love John, or Rosie, or even Mary.  I love you like John loves Mary.  I love you possibly more.  Do you understand what I’m saying?”

She didn’t. 

“If this is part of your experiment Sherlock, I swear…”

She was pulled to him, her eyes going wide before his lips landed on hers. 

This was it.  Her brain had finally cracked.  She’d been broken into so many pieces today that her mind had finally taken refuge in her fantasies, deeming it the only safe place at the moment. 

But his lips, soft yet insistent against hers, begging for a response, felt so damn real.  The wool and cotton under her hands pressed against his chest felt warm.  She could feel his heart beating fast against his chest. 

“I love you Molly Hooper.”  He whispered, his lips brushing against hers with every word.  “When you wake up tomorrow morning, I will still love you and I will love you the day after that and the day after that and so forth.”

She pushed away, staring at him-his absolutely calm face staring back at her- and frowned. 

“Are you being serious right now?  Please don’t do this if you aren’t serious.”

“If I have to spend the rest of my life proving every day to you that I am deadly serious regarding this Molly Hooper, I will gladly do so.  Yes, I am being very serious.  I.  Love.  You.”

Her heart stopped.  Just for a minute.  Then it slammed back to life so hard that she swore she felt it hit her ribcage.  She gasped aloud, tears falling down her face once again.  Different from earlier that day.  He lifted his hands and rested them against her cheeks, using his thumbs to wipe away the tears from her eyes, his face moving towards hers for another kiss.  She frowned as she felt the ripped and splintered skin of his palms rub against her cheeks and leaned back, grabbing at his hands and ignored his wince as she stared in horror at his injured hands. 

“What’s happened to your hands?  Are you okay?”

John’s tired laugh interrupted them. 

“You two.  You tell her you’re in love with her and she’s worried about your hands.”

“It’s fine, they’re fine.”  He said, ignoring John for the moment.  “I’ll tell you everything later.”

Without letting her go, he looked over to where John was leaning against the wall.  “How is Rosie?”

“Fine. Perfect. Sleeping. Eugenia’s going to kill me tomorrow though.  You think I can get Mycroft to get me a pass explaining why I was incredibly late in relieving my nanny?”

“I don’t think that will be a problem.”

Molly turned, her hands still in Sherlock’s, to look back at John and then to Sherlock.  “Will someone please tell me what is going on?”

John grinned.  “Short version?  Sherlock and Mycroft have a psychotic baby sister who apparently recruited Moriarity at one time in an unhinged plot to get back at her brothers. Baker Street blew up, Redbeard isn’t actually a dog and I got put in a well.”

Even if she could think of something to say the words wouldn’t come out.  She mouthed wordlessly as she looked between the two men.

“Wha..how….what?”

“Molls, we’re exhausted and I am in desperate need of a shower.  Can we just all agree to sleep here for tonight and I’m sure Sherlock will be more than happy to tell you the entire story tomorrow after we get some rest, yeah?”  The last part was directed towards Sherlock, John’s gaze serious.   Before anyone could say anything else, Molly’s phone went off telling her she had a text. She sighed heavily, still debating over throwing that phone against the wall.  Letting go of Sherlock’s hands, she crossed the room to snatch the phone from the table and swipe it open. 

 

**London Town**

 

Her world pinpointed to those two words.  Two words that suddenly righted her world and shoved it back into focus.  She didn’t realize she had fallen to her knees until John and Sherlock were both at her side, their hands helping her up.  Her senses snapped back and she realized she was sobbing, both men calling her name worriedly. 

“Help her up, I think she’s in shock.”  She heard John say.  “Eurus is locked up right, she couldn’t have gotten to Molly’s phone again.”

“Molly?  Molly, answer me.”  Hands touched her face, lifting her head upward, away from the two words on the screen of her phone.  Two words that meant all clear. 

Two words that meant her baby was coming home. 

Her eyes focused on the worried gaze of Sherlock.  Suddenly the events this evening were crystal clear.  Her son was coming home and his father had told her he loved her.  And meant it. 

Well…if they were all dropping bombshells…

“You remember when you asked if I would ever use your gift?”  she asked, not caring what she looked like at that moment,  “I did.  I had.  And he’s coming home.”

Sherlock dropped to his knees hard, his hand still on Molly’s chin, staring at her in shock.  John looked between the two. 

“What?  What gift?  What is going on?”

His eyes were moving rapidly across her face taking in every minute detail about her expression, her tears, her trembling hands.

“Someone tell me what’s going on this instant.  I’m quite at my limit for sudden reveals.”  John insisted.  Sherlock blinked gob smacked, sitting down hard on the floor on hand leaving Molly’s face while the other still retained hold of her forearm. 

“How did I miss it…I asked and you said…no, you never did say, did you…did you say…he?”

She nodded.  John finally decided standing wasn’t getting him any answers so he dropped to sit on the floor next to them. 

“What?”

Sherlock suddenly burst into a grin.  He glanced over at John. 

“It seems I have a son, John.”

John stared at his friend, his own version of buffering.  “Um…”  He looked over at Molly, his eyes going to her stomach.  “Congratulations?  When?”

“John, you aren’t listening.”

“Well help me out!”  he exclaimed, throwing up his hands.  “It’s been a shit day; left is right, up is down, you have a kid?”

Molly laughed, albeit a bit hysterically.  With her free hand, she opened her phone and swiped through screens before holding her phone out to Sherlock.  John scrambled around Molly to look at the phone Sherlock took from her.  On the screen was a baby not much older than Rosie with black curls looking up with a pensive expression at the miniature deerstalker on top of his head.

“Jesus Christ.”  John breathed staring at the baby in shock.  “He looks like you, poor kid.”

Sherlock ignored the comment, staring in his own astonishment at the image on the screen.

“That was taken his first Christmas.”  She nervously watched the two men, who were still looking at the photo.  John glanced up. 

“How old is he now?”

“He just turned two in March.”

“Two?”  he looked back at the screen and back at Molly.  “You have a bloody toddler and none of us knew?”

“Mycroft knows.” Sherlock said softly. 

Molly nodded confirmation.  John looked back at the picture.  “How did you know that?”

“No one else would buy a custom made deerstalker specifically for entertainment purposes.”

John looked back at Molly.  “You didn’t move into that house because of you and Tom, did you?”

“What house?”  Sherlock finally looked up from the picture. 

“Mycroft made arrangements for me to move in there when I was pregnant.  As well as having Dana around.”

“She’s not your friend from Uni, she’s your nanny.  That’s how you found Eugenia so easily.”

“What house?”  Sherlock repeated. 

“What gift?”  John shot back.  Molly answered. 

“IVR.”

Again John’s jaw dropped.  “You gave her sperm as a thank you gift?  Who does that?” 

“What’s his name?”  Sherlock asked.  Molly took her phone back, glancing fondly at the picture before closing it. 

“William.  William David Algernon Hooper.”

John snorted back a laugh.  “Well, someone’s finally named after you.”  He climbed to his feet and held out a hand towards Molly, who, after a moment took it and stood up, her other hand still on her phone. “As mind blowing as this evening has been, I have a feeling tomorrow we’ll be doing a hell of a lot of clean up.  And I still need a shower.  Molly, you can take the couch, I’ll bring out some clean blankets and a pillow or two.  Sherlock, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, you can sleep in my bed.”

The taller man merely raised an eyebrow as he climbed to his feet.  “If the papers could only see us now.”

“Shut up you utter tit.”  He dropped another kiss on Molly’s cheek.  “I’m glad you’re okay Molly, and I can’t wait to hear this entire story when I’m wide awake and can actually comprehend the fact that Sherlock Holmes has offspring.”

With that, he left the main room, leaving Sherlock and Molly alone.  The two looked at each other silently for a moment. 

“I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”  She said quietly.  He rocked back and forth on his heels.

“It isn’t like I was in a really good place this past year.  I wouldn’t have told me either.” He tilted his head slightly, glancing quickly at the empty space leading to the bedrooms before looking back at her.  “Mary knew, didn’t she?  All those times she spent with you around the holidays, she knew about him.”

She nodded.  “Will loved her.  And he doesn’t know she’s gone yet.  He’s going to be devastated.”

He took a step closer.  “Does he know…about me?”

She gave a half smile.  “He deduce it all on his own.”

His smile was so brilliant it changed his entire face, making him look younger.  He took another step towards her, pulling her to him. 

“I have a son.”  His voice was so awestruck that she couldn’t help but smile.  He held her to him, his face burying into her hair.  “Thank you Molly Hooper.”

She closed her eyes, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her cheek against his chest. 

 


	50. Chapter 50

Molly Hooper was gone.

It was the first thing he thought when he walked into the sitting room the next morning.  He’d awoken to snuffling coming over the baby monitor and John on the other side of the bed with the covers over his head.  He’d gotten up and walked into Rosie’s room before she could work up to a good cry.  Her look of frustration that nobody was coming for her morphed immediately into smiles and coos the minute she spotted him.  He changed her nappy, as much as he despised that task, and picked her up intent on finding Molly in the sitting room and waking her up. 

The sitting room was empty, the bed things John had left there folded neatly and placed at the end of the couch.  Everything of hers was gone. 

At first he panicked, then got annoyed with himself for panicking- new found emotions, were they always going to be this tedious?- before replaying the conversation from what was actually several hours ago. She had said he was coming home.   Which meant that he hadn’t been home in a while, but how long?   Ah, Moriarity’s message.  Mycroft would have automatically assumed that anyone surrounding Sherlock would be in harm’s way and that would include Molly’s child.

His throat still tightened at that.  He had a child.  A son.  It’d only been a passing thought before, an eventuality, but now…it was real.  He’d seen a picture.  Would she allow him to see the child- William? 

Spinning on his heels he walked back into the kitchen, ignoring Rosie’s repeated attempts to grab at his hair and tug, and pulled out a bottle from the fridge.  He plopped the bottle into a pot of water on the stove and turned it on.  Rosie, who by now recognized what her bottle looked like and what it meant, gave up on his hair to try to lean over and snatch the bottle from the pot of water. 

“Patience, Watson.”  He muttered.  “What else do you normally have for breakfast?”

 

* * *

 

The front door opened  as he was shaking the bottle.  Rosie was in her high chair, chewing on a spoon and loudly voicing her displeasure at there being nothing on the spoon. 

“Hello?”  a voice called out.  A moment later, a red-haired woman stepped into the kitchen, eyeing him over before turning her attention to Rosie.  “Good morning Miss Rose, what are you having this morning?”

“What in the devil do you feed her in the morning?” Sherlock asked, eyeing the bottle.  “There are all these jars and containers about and I wasn’t sure what, if anything, she ate in the morning with a bottle.”

The woman went to the fridge and pulled out a container of brown stuff.  “Good morning Mr. Holmes.  Usually it’s just cereal.  And the bottle.  Is it ready?”

He handed her over the bottle as she opened the container and put it into the microwave. 

“I’m just going to put my things up, can you take that out when it dings and stir it up a bit?”

He nodded absently and she stepped out of the room, thinking that the youngest Holmes’ brother really wasn’t as horrid as everyone insisted.  When she returned, he was sitting in a chair in front of Rosie feeding her from the container.  Cereal was all over her chin and nose and some of it had landed on the tray but neither of them seemed to care.  Rosie was grabbing at the spoon as if to insist that he wasn’t moving fast enough and he was grumbling at her. 

“I’d move much faster if you’d just let me do the feeding Watson.  Honestly I’ve half a mind to just hand you the spoon. “

“The trick is to not let her get ahold of the spoon in the first place.”

“Yes well, that failed miserably.”  He dropped the spoon back into the bowl which cause Rosie to let out an indignant squawk over the fact that he’d stopped feeding her.   Grinning, she traded seats with him and deftly manage to feed the baby girl without making a mess nor allowing her to get ahold of the spoon to help. 

He pulled out his phone and fiddled with it.  “About last night…”

“I received a message from Mr. Holmes this morning regarding what happened last night.”  She answered as she fed Rosie.  “Not all the particulars, mind you, because those are none of my business, but enough to explain to me that Doctor Watson’s late night was in no way of his own volition and therefore he cannot be held accountable for not returning by the required time.”  Her smile carried a hint of amusement that told him her speech wasn’t entirely serious.  “I was told that you were all in some danger so I’m glad to see you well and unharmed.  How is Doctor Watson this morning?”

“Exhausted.”

“As well he should be.”

“He’s still sleeping.  I’m not sure how this nannying thing goes, but…”

Eugenia laughed.  “I assure you Mr. Holmes, Doctor Watson needs a good rest.  Rosie and I will get on quite well enough on our own.”

“Ah…well, good.  I despise Mr. Holmes, Sherlock will do.”  He took out his phone again and looked at the message, smiling slightly.  “I’ll be at Baker Street all day should John ask.”

Walking over and dropping a quick kiss on the laughing Rosie’s head he nodded to Eugenia and left the flat.  He had things to do. 

* * *

 

Molly woke up to two messages and someone ringing her doorbell.

She laid on the couch for several hours, not sleeping, her mind going over and over the events of a couple of hours.  There was a stressful situation and everyone knows what happened in stressful situations.  Finally she’d gotten up and escaped the flat; she couldn’t remain there with Sherlock in the other room, Not after what had happened, what she’d told him.  She was second guessing herself now and she really wasn’t prepared to face him in the light of a new morning.

Blinking groggily, she slipped on her dressing gown and stumbled down the stairs.  Opening the door she frowned at the sight of a tired looking Mycroft  standing on her step with several men in jumpsuits behind him.

“Doctor Hooper.”  He greeted her as she stepped back away from the door, opening it wider to allow them in.  “These men are here to do a much more thorough sweep of your house.”  He nodded towards the man closest to him and the man gave a silent signal to the others who began splitting up. 

“I expect everything to look exactly as it was when you’ve finished.”  Mycroft called out to the men as they scattered around the house.   He headed towards the kitchen with a single mindedness that startled her. 

“Mycroft?”  she followed him, stopping as he pulled one of the kitchen chairs from the table and placed it in the middle of the room.  “What’s happening?”

He stood by the island and looked around before moving the chair to a place in the front corner of her kitchen.  Climbing up on it, he moved some things about and gave a sharp tug.    Moving to three other places in the kitchen he did the same thing before wiping the seat of the chair off and returning it to its proper place.

“What’s happening?”  she repeated.  “Does this have anything to do with this sister John said you have?”

He approached the island where she was standing and dropped the contents in his hand onto the table. 

“Everything.”

Molly felt sick as she recognized surveillance cameras.   She looked back up at him horrified. 

“How long have those been there?  I thought your men swept the place months ago?”

“As did I.  Believe me, those men are currently being properly interrogated.”

She looked back down at the cameras and then back at Mycroft, a sinking feeling in her stomach.  “How did you know about those cameras, Mycroft?”

The elder Holmes brother looked uncomfortable.  “Ah, yes.  Have you spoken to Sherlock at all this morning?”

Her blush told him all he needed to know.  “Not this morning, no.  But…I was as John’s last night watching Rosie when he and Sherlock returned.”

“Yes, I’m afraid my brother’s…declaration, however forced it was, came with an audience; myself, John and Eurus.  We could see you throughout the entire conversation.  I truly am sorry.”

Molly’s face paled, remembering how she felt during that conversation.  “Mycroft, how long have those been up there?  Did they have audio.  I had…”

He raised a hand to silence her, turning his head towards the man who suddenly stepped into the kitchen. 

“ We found video in the sitting room and one by the back entrance to the garden but nothing else.”

“Are you quite sure?”  Mycroft asked, his cold veneer at full frost.  He scooped up the three camera from the counter and held out his hand.  “Your predecessors assured me of the same thing.”

“I am confident that there are no more surveillance devices in this house.”

Mycroft nodded.  “Very well.  You and your men are dismissed.  Well done McCarver.”

“Thank you Sir.”  He rounded up his men and they were gone.  The entire sweep had taken no more than twenty minutes.   Only after the front door was shut did Mycroft speak. 

“Those were video only.  Any audio we heard through Sherlock’s phone. So if you had any conversations in this kitchen previous to the one you had with Sherlock, the sound was not picked up.”

She sagged against the counter in relief.  “Would you like some tea?  God knows I could use some.”

Unbuttoning his suit jacket, he took a seat at the table.  “That sounds lovely.”

She set the kettle on and pulled a couple of the scones she had in the package out and set them on a plate.  She put those on the table with some cream and jam.  “Eat something.  John didn’t tell me much about what happened, but I got the impression that it probably wasn’t at all fun.”

“After you sit, if you like, I’ll tell you everything.”

Nodding, she pulled out her phone from her dressing gown pocket while waiting for the water to boil and looked at her messages.

 

**Still at the Watson’s.  You are not. SH**

**It is a new morning and I still mean it. SH**

 

Molly found herself smiling widely at the messages.  She glanced over at Mycroft who was dabbing cream on a scone. 

“Speaking of, I…might have dropped a bombshell of my own last night.”

Mycroft looked up from his scone to Molly’s abashed look. 

“William?”

She nodded.  He sighed, turning his attention back to the scone. 

“How did he take it?”

“He was understandably shocked.  And then excited.”

“Indeed?”

“I think John was more stunned in the end.”  She bit her lip, hesitant.  “Do you think…he’ll want to see William?”

“I think he will.  He is, after all, Sherlock Holmes.  He can’t bear to have an unsolved mystery.”

Molly laughed, pouring the water into the pot and bringing it over to the table.  Taking her place across from him, she poured the tea into the cups. 

“Thank you for calling Dana last night.  Her confirmation that they were coming home is what prompted my impromptu confession.”

“I’ve already contacted Doctor Stamford and explained the situation.  He had graciously given you two more days off so you can enjoy your reunion.”

“Do you want to stay?”  she asked, picking up a scone.  “I don’t know when they be home, but you are more than welcome to stay and wait.”

“There is a disaster I need to clean up after this entire Sherrinford debacle.  But I will visit before you have to return to work.”

Molly took a sip of her tea and sat back.   “So.  There’s a third Holmes?”

Mycroft nodded.  “A younger sister.  Her name is Eurus.”

 

* * *

 

 

Baker Street was ruined. 

Not completely ruined, but it would take some time and effort to clean it up. His brother had been correct, the blast had only taken out his flat.  The side walls were fine and there was only a small part of the floor that might need to be reinforce as well as the entire front of his flat.  And the back of his flat.  The rest was merely cleanup and refurnishing his entire flat.  In the meantime, he’d either have to sleep in 221C or on the Watson’s couch.  Neither of those prospects sounded appealing.

Stepping carefully over the rubble, he picked up his ruined chair and set it upright, looking around the room in almost complete despondence.  His life was gone.  His violin, his chair, his laptop.  Books, papers, Billy the skull, his wallpaper, the couch, John’s chair…his entire life was in ruins and all he could see was the bittersweet irony of the entire situation.  His old life, such as it were, had been utterly destroyed, set to pieces and he had to set about putting it to rights again.  Not the same; just…with improvements. 

“You okay?”

He looked up from picking up old books towards the door.  John looked at the inside of the flat with something akin to sorrow. 

“We’re just going to have to rent a dumpster and toss everything out your new picture window before we can start rebuilding.”

The two men looked towards the gaping hole where the outside wall of his flat used to be and began laughing.   John picked his way through the rubble and picked up a pair of headphones.  He looked at the deer head Sherlock held and slipped the headphones over the animal’s head. 

“You think this can all be repaired?  There’s so much damage.” 

John looked at his best friend and smiled.  “I think, with enough time and hard work, it could be fixed.  It might not be exactly the same as it was, you might have to accept that.”

Sherlock returned his smile.  “No.  Not the same, better.”

“Cor, would you look at the mess!”

The men broke from their conversation to look to the door as Lestrade picking his way into the flat.  “I thought it looked bad from the outside.”

“Something wrong?”  John asked, stepping around a broken Victorian microscope.

“No.  Thought you boys could use a hand trying to figure out if there’s anything that could be saved.”  He pulled off his coat and left it outside on the stairs…the ones that hadn’t been blackened by the blast.  Sherlock tossed the books he had in his hand onto the slightly tilted couch. 

“Thank you Greg.  I appreciate it.”

“Yeah, well...”  John grinned at Lestrade still getting used to the fact that Sherlock actually did know his name this entire time.  “Where do you want me to start?”

“Kitchen, if you will.”  Sherlock’s mobile beeped and he pulled it from his pants pocket and swiped. 

 

**Say it like you mean it. Hx**

 

He smiled, noting the time.  He’d worked into the afternoon without noticing. 

“Everything all right?”

“Need to make a call.” 

He stepped out onto the landing and pressed the button that direct dialed Molly’s number.  After two rings she picked up.

“Hello?”

“As I said this morning, it is a new day and I still mean it.  I love you.”

He could almost hear her smile. 

“I…I love you too.  I know I’m being silly.”

“Not at all, it is I that need to make the allowances, you’ve done it for far too long. You left this morning.”

“Good thing I did.  Mycroft was here early with a crew of men to sweep my house.”

He was suddenly alert.  He’d need to call his brother later.  “Did he find everything?”

“Yes. He dismantled the three in the kitchen himself.  Sherlock,  I know everything that happened.  Mycroft told me.  We should…”  she hesitated for a moment before speaking again.  “We should probably talk.  I know you hate that, but…”

“For you, I will.”  He assured her.  “But it probably won’t be anytime within the next day or two.  I’m still assessing Baker Street and well, you’re…”

“He isn’t home yet.”  She said.  “Would you…one day, would you like to…”

“Yes.”  The word tumbled from his lips.  “Yes.  I would very much like to.”

“Good.  Because he would very much like to also.  I should let you get back to it then.”

“Can I…”  he swallowed.  This entire sentiment thing was much too draining.  “Call me, if you’d like, later tonight.  I assure you I will be up.”

“Okay.”

 

“What was that all about?”  Lestrade asked as Sherlock stepped back into the flat.  “You and Molly?  Molly Hooper?”

“You missed all the fun yesterday, Greg,”  John joked.  “Sherlock and Molly got together, Molly has a kid.”

“She told you then?” 

Movement stopped in the flat as John and Sherlock both stopped in their tracks to look at Lestrade in askance. 

“You know about William?”

“Well…yeah.  Mike Stamford told me.  Cute kid, all those curls and that nose.  She brought him to work with her one day when she had to pick up some papers from her office.  I was there for a DB report one of the other pathologists were doing.” He looked at both men.  “Why are you both looking at me like that?”

John and Sherlock shared a look.  “Were we the only two who didn’t know about him?”  John asked. 

“Mrs. Hudson.”  Sherlock supplied. 

“I guess I could see why she never mentioned him,” Lestrade shrugged.   “I mean, her personal life and her professional life have always been separate and given it’s her ex-fiancé’s kid, I’m sure there’s probably a little bit of a tussle going on…” His voice faded as he stared back at the two men who’d given him their full attention again. 

“She told you it was Tom’s?”  John asked. 

“Well…she never said his name exactly.  What I heard was she had night with a guy that led to Will and about a year later she’s engaged to Tom. “

“William just turned two sometime in March so counting back that would make the estimated date of conception,” he ignored John’s snort.  “Around seven months after my supposed death.  Oh, well played Miss Hooper.”

Lestrade shifted his weight.  Well if Tom’s not his dad then who…”  he trailed off, staring hard at Sherlock’s amused smirk.  “Oh, you bastard.  You snuck back into town during your exile for a quick shag?”

“Nothing so romantic Greg,” John quipped.  “Think about it, they’re both scientists.  What’s the most science way people can have kids?”

Lestrade looked from John to a now annoyed Sherlock.  “You left her your sperm?”

“As a gift.”  John supplied, grinning madly. 

“As a gift!”

 


	51. Chapter 51

There were too many things she needed and not nearly enough time to get them all.  The house had been cleaned-scrubbed-from top to bottom, everything of his that she was sure he’d outgrown packed up and put in storage.  Toby, knowing something was about to happen, slunk off to her room to hide while she went on a cleaning spree. 

It was late afternoon and everything was spotless and the house smelled a little of disinfectant. She eventually retreated to the settee with the telly on, not really watching it, her attention going back towards the hallway entrance every few minutes. 

Finally she heard the sound of a car pulling up in front of her house and she jumped up and ran towards the front door, unlocking it and flinging it open, her heart pounding against her chest.   The now familiar sleek black car had stopped and the back door opened.  Anthea stepped out gracefully closely followed by a whirlwind of stumbling, screaming toddler. 

“Mummy!”  He allowed Anthea to grab his arm before he took a tumble out of the car, then he was on his feet again and racing towards the front door.  “Mummy!”

Leaving the door open, Molly ran down the front walk, crouching down to scoop him up in her arms as he reached her.  She clutched him to her, crying happily as she felt little arms tightening around her neck and the familiar feel of soft curls tickling her cheek. 

“I’m missed you so much!”  She dropped kisses all over his head and temple where she could reach and he buried his face further into the crook of her shoulder. 

“No more go Mummy,”  his voice was muffled against her skin, breath warm.  “No more go.”

“No, never again baby, I promise.  Never again.”    She gave a wobbly smile to Dana who was coming up the walk with Anthea.  “Thank you so much, for everything.”

“I felt like the worst person yesterday, and I’m not sure what happened but I’m so relieved it was rather quickly resolved.”

“It seems we can than Auntie Eurus for showing her hand.”

Dana gave her a look.  “Who the bloody hell is Auntie Eurus?”

“A long story.”

“Well,”  Anthea said as she motioned towards the still open door.  “Let’s have that conversation inside, shall we?”

Nodding, Molly turned and walked inside.  William was still wrapped around her, grip tight, face finally poking out from her neck to look around a home he hadn’t seen in months. 

“Toby?”  he asked.

“He’s somewhere around here.  Do you want to get down to find him?”

He shook his head, hitching himself up on her waist. 

“Monster, why don’t you hop down and let your Mummy see you?”

He pulled back from Molly’s shoulder just enough to give Dana a dirty look as he tightened his grip on her neck.    Dana merely raised an eyebrow at him. 

“That was uncalled for,”  Anthea said. 

“He’s still mad at me for yesterday.  He’d finally wore himself out from an hours long tantrum when the boss texted and said we could come home, no, sit down Molls, I can get that,”  she said as Molly headed towards the stove.  Molly took a seat at the table, arranging William’s legs so she didn’t sit on them.  The toddler finally let go of her enough that he could slide down to sit on her lap, his arms still around her.   He looked over at Anthea as his head rested against Molly’s chest.  She stroked her hand through his curls. 

“I was able to tell him this morning that we were going home and he was much more cooperative.”  Dana finished as she pulled out three cups from the cabinet.  “But he’s still a tick pissed at me.”

“Mycroft suggested that they should be picked up from the train to streamline the process.”  Anthea continued with a little smile.  “What he neglected to tell me until I was well underway was that the station I was picking them up from was Cheltenham.”

“Yes, well, the boss does like his subterfuge.”

“After the couple of days I’ve had, I’m perfectly fine with all of Mycroft’s cloak and dagger methods.”

“Will slept on most of the train ride, so he’s probably good to go for a couple more hours.”

Molly smiled down at her silent son, sitting on her lap listening to everyone talk.   She dropped a kiss on the crown of his head.

“That’s perfectly fine with me.”

Dana put down the tea tray and took a seat.  From her lap, William frowned at her and scooted in closer to Molly.  Sighing, she put a finger under his chin and tilted his head up to look at her. 

“William, Dana only did what she needed to do to keep you safe.  To make sure you were able to come back here.  Please don’t be cross anymore darling.”

His lower lip jutted out and she smiled at him.  “She loves you Will, as I do, and we only ever want to see you safe.”

He huffed out a breath and glanced back towards Dana, Molly’s fingers trailing from his chin to stroke his cheek. 

“Sorryy Nana.”

Dana gave him a lopsided grin.  “I’ve weathered worse tantrums from you, monster, and I’m sure I’ll weather more in the future.”

“How about tomorrow we all go out and find you a bed?”  Molly asked.  “You can’t sleep in the crib anymore and you need a proper bed.”

William’s eyes lit up as he looked up at her and he grinned. Molly grinned back and bopped his nose with her forefinger.  “I love you William. I’m so happy you’re home.”

His grin grew wider.  “Love you Mummy.”

* * *

 

 

It was several hours before William conceded to let go of Molly but even then he followed her around everywhere, making sure she remained in his sight.  To her credit, she tried to humour him by staying in places he knew she was.  Even when Toby appeared later that evening to get his dinner and William cooed at him enough that the cat stopped in mid step to eye the toddler distrustfully, William didn’t go chasing after him, merely called to him from his chair as he watched Molly cook dinner. 

He stayed at the table after dinner was finished coloring in a book that Dana had gotten him while they were in hiding, strangely silent most of the night.  He went up for bath without any complaints, letting Molly wash his hair while he played with bubbles and tub toys he hadn’t played with in months. 

As she carried his towel clad body into his room for the first time since he returned he finally spoke up. 

“I sleep with you?”

She tilted her head at the question as she helped him step into his pull ups.  “You don’t want to sleep on the pull out tonight?”

He shook his head, droplets of water falling from his still wet hair.  “No, I sleep with you.”

She helped him into his jammies and went about drying his hair. 

“You can sleep with me,”  she decided.  “But I’m not going to bed quite yet.  Do you want to sit in the main room with us?”

He nodded as he hiked up his bottoms.  She finished drying his hair and tossed the towel into the hamper. 

“Okay darling, up we go.”

He lifted his arms and let her pick him up, his legs wrapping around her waist.  He took the stuffed dog she gave him with a grin and caught her face in both of his hand, the stuffed dog bumping against her face as he looked at her solemnly.  She stared into his blue-green eyes and it was like looking at his father. 

“Love you.”  He said.  She couldn’t help the smile that crossed her face.  She slid her hand around the back of his head, feeling the soft curls against her fingers and tilted his head forward to kiss him on the forehead. 

“I love you too Will.  I love you so much.”

His hands still on her face, he leaned forward to plop a loud kiss on her cheek before resting his head against her shoulder.   _I’ll never get tired of this_ ,  she thought as she headed back downstairs.

 

* * *

 

“So…sister?  Anything else interesting happen?”

It was later in the evening when Dana and Molly finally found time to sit down and talk. Dana had been telling Molly about their “adventures”  until William had finally fallen asleep on the couch; his head on Molly’s lap, his dog in his arms and a throw over his body to keep him warm.  Their voices were pitched low so as not to wake him up.  Molly took a sip of the wine Dana had handed her earlier and shrugged. 

“The usual.  I’m not sure how I’m going to break the news about Mary to Will.”

Dana’s look was sympathetic.  “I’m so sorry to hear about her. She was amazing and I’m sure she was a great Mum for the time she had her.  How is Rosie?”

“A dream.  She’s such a good baby outside the not wanted to sleep through the night part.  Completely different from Will at that age though.  She’s just now learning to sit up on her own and everything is a delight so long as someone is paying attention to her.  Eugenia loves her and she loves Eugenia so it all worked out in that sense.”

“Genie is a smashing person, I knew she’d be spot on for the challenge.  Anything else happen?”

She glanced down at her sleeping child before looking back at Dana.  “Sherlock told me he loved me.”

“You’re lying!”  Her voice was as loud as she could make it without waking William.  “You daft cow, you didn’t bloody lead with that information?”

Molly laughed.  “It just happened last night, well early this morning.  Honestly this entire day has just been a whirlwind.  I was with he and John when I got your text so…Sherlock now knows he has a child.”

“Are you having me on? You told him?”  She leaned forward, eyes alight.  “How did he take it?”

“Well.  He seemed excited.  He wants to meet Will.”

“Ohhh….Will’s going to be so excited when he finds out.  You going to tell him or let it be a surprise?”

“I was thinking, depending on when he wants to meet him, I might keep it a surprise.  Mycroft called Stamford who gave me a couple more days off so I could have a reunion with Will.  He said he’d stop by before I return to work to see William so I’m assuming Sherlock might come with?”  She shook her head. “I don’t know, this entire day, it’s all happened so fast and I’m still getting my balance.  I know it happened, I still have the text messages from this morning that remind me it happened, I see you and Will so I know it’s real, but I’m just terrified that I’m going to wake up tomorrow and find out it’s all been a lovely dream.”

“No, you’re going to wake up tomorrow with a two year old’s foot in your kidney again and realize it’s all real as you try to get out of bed to pee without waking him.”

Molly laughed.  “I can’t think of a better way to wake up.”

* * *

 

They stayed up for a bit longer talking but eventually the previous day’s activities caught up with everyone and Molly carried William up to her room to sleep.  The toddler curled up with his stuffed dog, never waking, instinctively nestling next to her hip once she got into bed.  She pulled the covers over him and picked up her mobile deliberating over whether she wanted to call Sherlock or just text.  She didn’t want the call to wake William; the living room with Dana was one thing, there was always noise and lights in there, but the dim lighting of the bedroom with it’s quiet might cause him to wake up if there were voices where none normally were.  Toby hopped up on the bed, meowing softly as he stepped over the covers to butt his head against her hand.  Smiling, she stoked the cat, listening to his quiet purrs. 

“It’s been a busy day for all of us, hasn’t it Toby?”  she asked quietly.  William snorted in his sleep rolling over and curling further under the covers, mumbling about dogs and castles…or so it sounded.  Toby stopped purring and watched the sleeping toddler suspiciously before deciding he could tolerate the boy provided he didn’t move too much.   Curling up on Molly’s blanket covered lap, Toby fell asleep leaving Molly the only one in the room still awake. 

Texting it was then.

 

**You still awake?  Mx**

**You know I never sleep.  SH**

**You’re human Sherlock, you have to sleep.  Mx**

**Fine.  I hardly sleep.  Sitting on John’s couch trying to be quiet so as not to wake Rosie.  SH**

**Your text is a welcome relief.  SH**

**I would have called but there’s someone else in my bed tonight.  Mx**

**Other than Toby?  SH**

**Yep.  Do you want to see?  Mx**

**Yes.  SH**

 

Molly carefully moved enough of the covers away to reveal a sleeping William; curls wild, mouth half open snoring softly, arms cradling his stuffed dog and his pajama top hitched up from moving around.  She snapped a picture praying the click wouldn’t wake him up. He wrinkled his nose a little but otherwise didn’t move.  She checked the picture.  It wasn’t the best quality and it only showed a side image of the sleeping boy but it was the best she was getting at this time.   She sent it to Sherlock and waited. 

Moments later her mobile vibrated. 

 

**He’s beautiful.  SH**

 

She smiled.

 

**He is.  Mx**

**We’re going tomorrow to shop for a bed and maybe some new clothing. Mx**

**Which explains why he’s sleeping in your bed.  SH**

**That and he refused to let me out of his sight all day.  Mx**

**I don’t blame him.  SH**

 

She blushed.  He might not catch most nonverbal clues, or didn’t care to, but he could be incredibly sweet when he wanted to. 

 

**Mycroft is supposed to stop by to see him in a day or two.  If you wanted to come with? Mx**

**You said you wanted to meet William.  So if you still want to, the offer stands.  Mx**

**Will would love to meet you.  Mx**

**I’m to meet with Mycroft tomorrow to tell our parents about Eurus.  It could possibly take the entirety of the day.  SH**

**I’ll ask him tomorrow about his plans.  SH**

**Logically I know I shouldn’t be jealous of my brother, but it can’t be helped given the situation. SH**

**I’m sorry.  I should’ve told you when you returned.  There never seemed to be a good time.  Mx**

**Molly do stop apologizing. I am not angry with you.  I’m not angry with anyone.  SH**

**I understand your reasons behind them and as I said before, I would have done the same thing given the situation.  SH**

**You made a rational choice regarding his safety and I will not find any fault in that.  SH**

**That said, I still find myself jealous of all the time Mycroft has had with him.  SH**

**Also a little perplexed that Mycroft indeed spent time with him.  SH**

**Mycroft is an amazing Uncle.  They adore each other.  Mx**

**That is the part I find perplexing.  Mycroft doesn’t adore anyone.  SH**

**Just wait until you come over.  You’ll see a completely different side to him.  Mx**

**I am already unnerved enough.  SH**

**You never answered one of my questions.  You moved?  SH**

**Yes.  A house in Ealing.  Enough room for myself, Will and Dana.  Mx**

**With a back garden that has a swing set and a sandbox.  Mx**

**There’s a park down the lane that has a small pond in it that ducks sometimes visit.  Mx**

**Will loves the ducks.  Mx**

**Well…  SH**

**It’s a good thing I never tried to use your flat as a bolt hole once I returned.  SH**

**So.  Tom?  SH**

**Was he ever your fiancé?  SH**

**No.  Mx**

**Mycroft  SH**

**He was a deterrent.  SH**

**Yes.  Mx**

**Yet another thing I will be discussing with Mycroft.  SH**

**If it makes you feel any better, Will hated him.  Mx**

**But then again, Will isn’t fond of any men that come into my life save Mycroft.  Mx**

**That’s why you  broke off the so called engagement.  SH**

**That’s why.  Mx**

**Good.  SH**

**I should let you get some sleep.  SH**

**After all, if William rises as early as Rosie does, you’ll be dead on your feet by noon.  SH**

**Oh no, Rosie is her own Miss.  Mx**

**Can I talk with you tomorrow?  Mx**

**I would like that very much.  SH**

 

Smiling, she slid down into the bed.  Toby opened one eye and waited until she got comfortable before rearranging himself back on her legs and falling back asleep.  Her mobile vibrated one more time she picked it up from the table where she’d laid it. 

 

**Do you remember the third night of your so called babysitting duty when we talked about Mary?  SH**

**You fell asleep in the chair and I carried you into my room so you could get a decent rest.  SH**

**Tonight, I’m finding that I miss that feeling of knowing you’re sleeping next to me.  SH**

**You say the most sweetest things.  Sometimes.  Mx**

**Good night Sherlock.  Mx**

**Good night Molly Hooper  SH**

 


	52. Chapter 52

The car ride was quiet and if John were honest, more than a little tense.   He watched the two men sitting on the other side of the car from him; Mycroft, ever impeccably dressed texting on his phone instructions to whomever- probably Anthea, and Sherlock, in his usual outfit staring out the window, his fingers tapping anxiously against his thigh.  A coo came from beside him that caught all three men’s attention.  John smiled down at his daughter in the car seat, picking up one of her rattles and handing it over to an outstretched chubby hand.  The rattle went directly into her mouth and he grinned, glancing back at the men.  Mycroft had gone back to his texts but he met Sherlock’s eyes and noticed the nervousness in them. 

“You know everything is going to be fine.”  He said.  Sherlock shrugged noncommittally. 

The car pulled up along the curb of a two story non-descript home and parked.  Sherlock tensed, holding himself still while Mycroft finished his text.  John went about pulling Rosie from her carrier and then unbuckling it from the car.  It was easier to carry the baby than it was to carry her in the carrier.  Recently she’d developed an insistence in seeing everything around her which meant she wanted to be upright which meant that she absolutely did not like being in her infant car seat anymore.  John watched Mycroft, wondering if the man was just seeing how long they could sit there before Sherlock exploded on him and once again thanked his lucky stars that he did not have a brother. 

Finally Mycroft pocketed his mobile and adjusted his suit jacket before opening the door and stepping out.  Sherlock was out in a flash after him, pausing only to extend a hand for the carrier which John gratefully handed over as he struggled to climb out of the car with his daughter in his arms.

When Sherlock had asked him if he wanted to come along to meet William, John had been…well surprised. 

 

_“Why do you want me to come along?”  he asked.  “This is a family thing.”_

_“And as I’ve said before, you are family.  You and Rosie.  This is my son John.  I have no idea what to expect.”_

_“You need me there for support.”  He reasoned.  Sherlock nodded._

_“I’d be grateful for it.  Besides, you know more about children than I do.”_

_“There’s not much to know Sherlock.”  John told him.  “You’ve said William wants to meet you.  Half the battle is already over.”_

_“What if he hates me?”  Sherlock muttered and John was suddenly struck by the realization that Sherlock was scared.  This was an unknown, a variable he’s never actually considered, no matter what he’d done in the past.  In the past he would’ve dismiss it as not important, but this new Sherlock…he was facing this head on and terrified._

_“Kids love you, although God only knows why.  Trust me, he’ll like you just fine.”_

 

Hitching Rosie on his hip and enjoying the warm temperatures of late spring, the three men walked up the front walk to the house.  On the front porch, Mycroft adjusted his tie before ringing the doorbell.  The quiet house suddenly erupted into a explosion of noise on the other side of the door.  A loud muffle screech of excitement came from the other side, followed by two female voices yelling.  The sound of heavy trod followed by the slap of something hard against the other side of the door was heard.  Sherlock startled and Mycroft…John could hardly believe what he was seeing, Mycroft was smiling. 

“Myc!  Myc Myc Myc!”  A tiny voice screamed happily on the other side of the door. 

“I am not opening this door until you go away!”  A female voice answered. 

“William David you get back here this instant and put your pants on!”  The distant voice of Molly Hooper was heard.  “You are not greeting your Uncle Mycroft with your bits exposed!”

John couldn’t help it, he snorted out a laugh.  “Definitely your kid.”  He joked.  Sherlock merely gave him a look as the sound of heavy trod raced away from the door.  The door opened and a cocoa skinned woman with dark hair smiled at the three men. 

“Hi!  Sorry, we’re having a bit of technical issues.  Come in.”

Mycroft nodded.  “Agent Morris, welcome back.”

The woman smiled and the three men stepped into the house.  “Good to be back Sir.”  She looked at the other two men, smile widening.  She looked at John first and Rosie in his arms. 

“Well hello there Miss Rosie,”  she cooed, holding out a hand towards the baby girl.  Rosie babbled, grabbing onto Dana’s finger.  “I’ve heard so much about you.” 

Her gaze lifted to John.  “I’m so sorry to hear about Mary.  She was a great woman.”

John smiled tightly and nodded.  “Thank you Ms. Morris.” 

“Please, call me Dana.”  Her gaze slid towards Sherlock and her smile turned into a grin.  “My God, I knew Will looked like you but…”

The screech came from the hallway again, causing Dana to roll her eyes and turn around. 

“Quit screaming in the house!”  she yelled down the hallway.  A small blur of back curly hair and high energy came charging down the hallway from a room in back screaming the entire way. 

“Myc! Myc! Myc!”

Again, John had to rub his eyes because Mycroft’s entire countenance changed.  The man’s face broke out into a wide smile and he took a step forward, squatting down when the blur slowed as if trained to do so.  Once Mycroft squatted down the toddler took off again, reaching Mycroft at full speed.  The man scooped the boy up, crushing him to him and standing up as small arms wrapped tightly around Mycroft’s neck. 

“Myc!”  the little boy announced happily. 

“Mark this day down, the day Mycroft let the monster near his three piece suit without giving one toss.”  Dana joked, her head turned towards the way the toddler came.  Molly stepped into the hallway smiling at the picture of Mycroft and William.  Her gaze went to John and Sherlock and she blushed. 

“I’ve missed you Algernon,”  Mycroft said softly.  The little boy pulled back and clasped Mycroft’s face between his little hands.  His lower lip jutted out in an almost pout and he frowned at Mycroft. 

“No more go bye bye.”  He announced as if he knew everything that had passed in the long months was all Mycroft’s design.  Mycroft nodded. 

“Indeed.  There shall be no more of that.”  Mycroft agreed. 

The entire scene was so surreal.  William’s pout was the exact replica of Sherlock’s pout when he didn’t like something.  Seeing the usually stiff Mycroft acting with so much emotion caught him off guard and he let out another soft snort of amusement.  The noise caught William’s attention and he turned to look towards the sound. 

John’s eyes widened as he finally got a good look at the boy; black curly hair, blue-green eyes wide and excited, a small turned up nose, cupid bow lips and a cherubic face.  He was beautiful, the perfect mix of both Sherlock and Molly wrapped inside a two year old package.  He couldn’t see Sherlock’s expression, the man was partially turned from him, staring at William, but he held himself so still and steady that John was positive the man was terrified to even breath. 

In fact, the entire house seemed to be holding their breath as William looked at the two men.  His eyes went from surprise to suspicion in seconds, his gaze darting around John and Rosie first, taking everything in in a way that John was so familiar with.  

“Is he…”

“Yep.”  Dana answered. 

William’s eyes alighted on Rosie and a sudden excited grin slid across his face. 

“Rosie!”  he announced, looked back at his mother.  Molly nodded.  William looked back at the baby girl who was watching him as she chewed on her fingers.  A little hand came up and waved. 

“Hi Rosie!”

“She can’t talk quite yet, monster.”  Dana told him.  He looked towards Dana as if what she was saying was just ridiculous.  John couldn’t help it, this kid was just adorable.  He took Rosie’s other hand, the one not currently being chewed on, and waved it towards William. 

“Hello William.”

The boy looked back still grinning.  His eyes narrowed as they landed on John as if studying him…or as John knew now, deducing him. 

“J-ohn.”  He said slowly, as if he were still working on correctly pronouncing some of the letters.  He glanced back toward the door, his lower lip jutting out again as his eyes grew sad for a moment.  John’s own eyes watered for a moment as he understood who Will was looking for. 

“Molly told him last night,”  Dana explained, stepping towards John.  “She didn’t want to upset you with the inevitable confused questions he was going to have.”

He nodded, blinking quickly.  Dana held out a hand. 

“May I?” 

He took his eyes off of the toddler still in Mycroft’s arms to look at Dana. 

“Oh, sure.”  He handed Rosie off to the woman who took her with a quiet coo.  Rosie burbled and laughed, her slobber covered hand waving around. 

John looked back just in time to witness the meeting of father and son.

* * *

 

Sherlock was terrified. 

And then annoyed because these emotions were really beginning to wear him out.  He’d been scared before and honestly, he didn’t really like it. 

But standing here, staring at this two year old boy in his brother’s arms that looked so much like him, he was struck in awe at what he’s done.  Or rather what he’d helped create. 

This was his.  Half his, half his genetic makeup.  Half Holmes.  Panic set in quickly rooting him to the spot.  Given what he’d learned over the last week he was the last person in the world who should have any offspring.  There were so many dangers;  he and his brother were sociopaths, his sister a psychopath, none of them knew a damn thing about any sort of positive human interaction save those that advanced their own purposes.  All three were beyond genius level intellect, even if the consensus was that he was the idiot.  It was clearly obvious that William was intelligent, more so than his peer group and there was also a very real chance that he too would grow up with some of those tendencies.  Did he really want to pass down a life of torment and apathy to another generation?  Not to mention his addictive personality.  What in the hell had he been thinking the day he walked into that glass and metal building and made an appointment with Doctor Patric?

Suddenly blue-green eyes were on him and he was made aware what it felt like to others when he deduced them.  Because that’s what his son was doing; deducing him.  He didn’t move, too afraid to move, hardly breathed as he watched the toddler gather information.  He couldn’t stop staring at those eyes.  When their gazes finally met, all of his fears and doubts disappeared.  He was staring into the eyes of his son.  He blinked twice and the boy leaned back, glancing at Mycroft before looking back at him.  Finally, after what seem like an endless stretch of time, William’s eyes widened and his mouth moved silently for a moment.  Then:

“Dad!”  The word was quick and sharp, as if the speaker was in disbelief.  William blinked and suddenly his face lit up in a smile Sherlock had only ever seen once before…on the boy’s mother. 

As one, although unconsciously, Sherlock and William turned to look at Molly who was still standing a little away from the group carefully watching everything play out. 

“Mummy!”  William called out, squirming in Mycroft’s grasp.  He put William down and the toddler ran straight for Molly’s legs.  He turned around and looked back at Sherlock.  “Dad!”

Sherlock was hesitant.  He looked back up at Molly for instruction.  She nodded towards the boy attached to her leg. 

“I did promise.  Are you going to say anything or just stare at him from a distance?”

He felt John nudge him.  “Try getting down on his level.” 

Numbly he squatted down, finally getting to his knees, his gaze never leaving William.  The toddler let go of Molly’s legs and took a tentative step towards him.  Slowly he raised his hand and waved. 

“Hi.”

Sherlock grinned, he couldn’t help it.  He raised his own hand in return. 

“Hello William.”

“Molls, hold Rosie,”  he heard Dana say.  “I need to get this on camera.”

He didn’t move, didn’t want to scare the boy.   Slowly, William walked towards him, still studying him, until he stopped right in front of his knees, his stocking feet almost touching Sherlock’s knees.  Sherlock swallowed hard before speaking. 

“It is very nice to finally meet you William.  Do you prefer William or Algernon?”

William looked up at Mycroft, who was watching the entire scene play out, then back at Sherlock.  “Myc call me Al’der’on.”

“You prefer William, then?”

William gave him a bright grin and nodded.  Sherlock couldn’t help but to smile back.  William watched him and suddenly Sherlock couldn’t pretend any longer. 

“Might I have a hug?”

The receiving grin gave him the answer, followed by two arms wrapped around his neck and tiny feet half climbing up his knees.  He wrapped his arms around William, feeling how small he was, his heart beating against his chest and let out a shaky breath. 

“Daddy.”  William said, his voice soft in his ear and Sherlock, already overcome with emotion, dropped his face into his son’s hair as he held him tight.

 

 

* * *

 

The sweet and emotional meeting between father and son lasted about ten minutes.   Which was three minutes longer than Mycroft had estimated.   With Sherlock’s newly formed emotional state which put him on par with most five year old's pitted against the completely unreasonable two year old emotion, added in they both were vying for the attention of the woman they had in common, Mycroft was not at all surprised at the outcome.  Even John looked amused watching the proceedings. 

Molly, however, was not amused. 

After the meeting was over and everyone was milling towards the sitting room, William leading the way and jabbering a mile a minute about something or another and insisting that Rosie needed to see his blocks, Sherlock had hung back, approaching her when everyone had left.  Her heart beat loud in her ears; they hadn’t seen each other since the night everything had been revealed.  There’s been texts and phone conversations, but this was the first time she’d seen him.  She wasn’t sure where she stood, if anything had changed. 

 He stopped before her, looking down.  “He’s perfect.”

She couldn’t stop the smile on her face.  “Of course he is.”

“Thank you for allowing this meeting.”

“Sherlock, I was never going to withhold your son from you if you wanted to see him.  I’m only sorry it took two years for you two to meet.”

His hand rose, fingertips stroking her cheek and trailing down her neck.  She held still, barely breathing, still not quite how to react, what to do.  Their gazes met and she bit her lip, waiting.  He lowered his head, his lips a breath space from hers, barely brushing. 

A sudden hard object ran into her leg, causing her to stumble forward.  Their mouths clashed hard, teeth clacking and her body was pushed against his.  Immediately they both stepped back, breaking the suddenly harsh and awkward kiss as a small body push his way between their legs.  They both looked down and William was standing between them, his arms around Molly’s legs, giving Sherlock a disapproving look. 

“No!”  he insisted.  “My Mummy.”

He blinked and then frowned.  “What?”

Molly sighed.  “William…” 

“My Mummy,” William said again as if daring Sherlock to argue.

A snicker was heard in the entryway to the sitting room. 

“I’ve got five quid on William,” Dana said. 

“I’m not about to take that bet,” Mycroft answered. 

“I will.”  John said. 

Sherlock looked at his son with a frown.  “Of course she’s your Mummy,” he stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.  “But she’s my Molly.”

Molly grinned.  She couldn’t help it. 

William’s gaze narrowed.  “No!  My Mummy!”  His foot stomped in defiance. 

“Be careful mate,” Dana said.  “He beat out a MI6 agent when he was not even a year.”

“Probably, but he’s never matched wits with Sherlock Holmes.” John countered.  Molly sighed heavily, bending down to scoop up the toddler. 

“This is ridiculous.”  She announced.  “I can be your Mummy and his pathologist.  I insist you two learn to get along.”  She poked her son’s nose before kissing his forehead and then held out her hand towards Sherlock.  He took it, entangling his fingers with hers.  William opened his mouth to complain but shut it when Molly gave him a stern look.

“Don’t.”  she said.  The lower lip jutted out as he pouted. 

“Don't take away all our fun, Molls,” Dana complained good naturedly as they all headed into the sitting room.


	53. Chapter 53

_The entire afternoon had been…surreal._ Was Molly’s thought as she stood in the entryway of the kitchen  and peeked into the sitting room.

William was sitting on Mycroft’s lap as his Uncle read to him from one of his picture books.  On the settee, Sherlock had Rosie on his lap bouncing the laughing baby while shooting glances towards his son and brother.

“You never told me how absolutely yummy he was.”  Dana said, her voice pitched low as she worked on sandwiches for lunch.  “I mean, I’ve seen the pictures and the news, we all have, but seeing him up close like this…I’d’ve shagged him way before now.”

“I’m not shagging him now.”  Molly turned away from the sight and stepped further into the kitchen to help with the tea. 

“Girl, get on that.” 

“Dana, you’ve been home for three days counting today, three days since everything’s happened,”  Molly hissed as she pulled plates from the cabinet.  “Just when do you expect this to happen?”

“No.  I do not want to know what you ladies are talking about, do I?”  John stepped into the kitchen with a bemused smirk and a bottle.  He handed the bottle to Dana’s outstretched hand and took a seat at the small table. “Had to get away for a bit.  Those three are playing the most uncomfortable long game and the sad part is one of them doesn’t even know it’s being played.”

“Would that be the father, the son or the uncle?’  Dana asked, pushing a plate of sandwiches across the island towards John.  He got up and took a sandwich from the plate. 

“Thank you, oh no, the Uncle absolutely knows what he’s doing.  I think Mycroft is enjoying this far too much.  He’s gleefully rubbing his relationship with Will, and I’m sorry Molly, I know he’s been amazing to you and William, but that is just the most mind boggling thing I’ve ever seen.  I’m waiting for Sherlock to take a piss or something but he’s not and William is just an unknowing accomplice in it because he’s two and Sherlock’s got Rosie trying to make Will jealous and the entire scene in there is so convoluted, I had to escape.”  He laughed hoarsely and shook his head, heaving out a sigh.  “Christ, Mary would be positively gleeful if she could see this playing out.”

“You might need something stronger in your tea, Doctor.”  Dana hinted.  John looked up with a crooked smile on his face. 

“I would not be opposed to something stronger right now.” 

“I’ve got just the thing.”

“So how did you pull this entire thing off Molly?”  John asked.  “I mean, I know nobody knew because, well, I wasn’t there those two years Sherlock swanned off to God knows where but afterword, how in the hell did you manage to keep it a secret from everyone?”

“Dana.”  Molly admitted.  The woman in question grinned as she set a tumbler with two fingers worth of scotch in it.  He lifted it in salute.

“The pregnancy was easy, I really never got all that big and I wore baggy jumpers and didn’t really go out much.  The cover story and the time frame put most people off.  Honestly not very many people knew; Mike Stamford, because he’s my boss,  Greg, mostly because Mike told him and he came in a couple of times during my pregnancy for cases.  Mycroft, I went to him because I needed the help and he owed me for my part in the…well, that.  And Anthea, because she’s his assistant and she’s come over a couple of times to help.  Mike and Greg assumed he was Tom’s.”

Dana snorted. 

“After I had him, he pretty much stayed with Dana. Most of his life had been spent in this small cul de sac.  I took him to work with me once when he was a baby because I was out which was risky, other than that, I hardly talked about him, not because I was ashamed, but because even if nobody knew who his father really was, I was still Sherlock Holmes’ pathologist and therefore in some sort of potential danger, especially after he returned and I was pulled into more and more of his cases.  Which meant William was in danger.”  She gave a dry smile.  “There are still some people at Bart's that think I made him up for attention.”

John barked a tight laugh. 

The hungry cry of a baby came from the sitting room followed by Sherlock yelling. 

“John!”

“Why she crying?”

Dana snorted again, pulling the now warmed bottle from the water and drying it off.  “Men,”  she said with a conspiratorial look towards Molly. 

“We really are shite at handling babies.”  John agreed.  “But I’m learning.”

Sherlock stepped into the kitchen, glaring at everyone as if betrayed, patting a hungry Rosie on the back. 

“She’s hungry…I think.  It sounds like her hungry cry.”

“Tea’s ready anyway.”  Dana said.  “We can get the high chair from storage.”

“It’s in the sun room,”  Molly told her.  “Pulled it out when she spent time with me.”

“Right.”

William came running in a moment later with Mycroft in tow.  The toddler stopped, first checking the distance between his parents before fixing his father with a disapproving glare. 

“Why Rosie crying?”

“Because she’s hungry, you tyrant.”  Molly retorted.  “Go wash up for lunch.”

“Food!”  he yelled happily turning on his heel and racing out of the room.  John merely shook his head. 

“That boy just likes to run and yell, I think.” 

Yes, he’s rather like his father in that regard.”  Mycroft stated.  Sherlock merely turned and eyed his brother. 

“Your tie is rumpled.” 

John stood up and took Rosie from Sherlock.  “Come on my love, I think I packed some lovely beans for you for lunch.”

Sherlock wrinkled his nose, reached towards the table to pick up the tumbler and swallowed the remainder of the scotch. 

“No, go right ahead.”  John deadpanned. 

“You don’t need to drink around Rosie.”

Dana carried the high chair through the kitchen and into the dining area where there were more chairs.  “Remember when the only boy in our house was a two year old we could bend to our will?”  she joked.  Molly smiled. 

“I’m afraid after lunch, I’ll be off.”  Mycroft said as they stepped into the dining area, Molly behind them with the tea services.  Sherlock had picked up the tray with sandwiches and biscuits and followed behind her.  William ran back into the dining area with wet hands only to be caught by Dana. 

“Wrong!  You are not sitting at the table with drenched hands.  Go dry them off.”

“Myc go bye?”

“After lunch, yes.” 

Molly handed him a tea towel which he patted twice and she ended up having to dry off his hands herself.  He climbed up into the seat next to Mycroft and looked up at his Uncle.

“J-ohn and Dad go bye too?”

“That, my dear nephew, is entirely up to you.  Do you want them to go?”

He looked at Sherlock who was staring at his plate.  John elbowed him. 

“Noooo…”  William trailed off.  “Rosie no go bye too.”

“I can always send a car for you when you’re finished, if you like.”  Mycroft told his brother.  “If you would choose to remain and spend time with your…son.”

Sherlock looked up at his brother.  Finally he nodded.  “Thank you, I appreciate that.”  He looked over at William who was watching him carefully.  “Would you like John and I to stay?”

“Yeah.  We go outside and I play with Rosie on swing!”

“It’s settled then.  Text me when you’re ready and I’ll send a car for you.”  He nodded his thanks as Molly set a cup in front of him.  On the other side of the table  Rosie squealed at the spoon full of food and banged her tiny fists against the tray.  William looked at her and frowned. 

“No Rosie, one no bang on table like hoo’gan.”  He admonished.  “We sit quiet and wait for Mummy and Nana to join.”

Dana barked out a loud laugh and turned around, her hand stifling her laughter.  Rosie stopped banging on the table to regard the toddler across the table from her as John chuckled. 

“William,”  Molly groaned, ruffling her son’s hair and chuckling.  Only Mycroft and Sherlock kept their amusement in check. 

“Well done.”  Mycroft praised, patting down the mess of curls Molly had left when she ruffled his hair.  “Although she is a young lady.”

“I see you’ve been teaching my son manners.” Sherlock quipped. 

“Considering your own  manners are atrocious…”  Mycroft trailed off, the corner of his lips lifting minutely in amusement.  Ignoring all of them and considering his duty complete, William dug into his sandwich, pulling it apart as he usually did and eating each piece separately. 

* * *

 

Mycroft had left after lunch, as scheduled.  But not before William bounded from the table and demanded one last hug.    His Uncle looked him over and pointed down the hallway.

“The loo first Algernon. Wash your hands.”

The toddler followed without complaint.  John watched the two walk off before turning back to the table. 

“This is weird, right?  Does anyone else find this odd? Mycroft is this…”  he waved a hand around.  “Closed off human, it’s weird seeing him interacting with people much less young people.”

Molly merely shrugged.  “Before Will I would’ve said yes, but he’s been in my son’s life since night one.  I no longer see him the way he portrays himself to everyone else.”

William’s laughter broke through the discussion as did the deep answering chuckle.  Sherlock lifted his head from his tea cup to frown at the distinctly male chuckle in the other room.  Moments later they heard the front door close followed by toddler footsteps. 

William came back into the dining area stopping by Rosie’s high chair.  He looked up at Sherlock and John.  “We go play now?”

John looked at Sherlock.  “Um…yeah.  Let me get Rosie cleaned up and we can go play.”  He nudged his friend.  “Sherlock, why don’t you take William out to the back?”

Nodding, he pushed away from the table, noticing how William took a step back to give him room.  “Right.  Do you need your coat?”

Dana watched, her chin resting on an upturned hand and a barely covered grin, as William raced towards the front door where his jacket was hung up.

“Coat!”  he yelled from the hallway.  Molly bit her lip to keep back a smile as she stood up. 

“I have it,”  she started before she felt Sherlock’s hand on her shoulder. 

“I have it.  Relax.”  His hand lingered as he passed her and after a moment they heard sounds of father and son talking. 

“Which one is yours?”

“Blue one.”

“So, where is this back garden you speak of?”

William giggled and Dana climbed to her feet. 

“I’m dying to see what’s happening?”

Molly stood and followed quietly, catching sight of William, his little hand engulfed in Sherlock’s big one, leading his father through the kitchen towards the sun room where the door to the back garden was located.  Dana leaned against the wall, fanning herself with her hand. 

“This is like the ending of a romantic movie.”

“Hardly.”  She was already up so she began cleaning the table of plates, Dana helping. 

“How are you feeling?”  Dana asked.  Molly filled up the sink and began washing dishes.  “You’ve been quiet this entire day.”

‘I’m not sure how to feel, honestly.”  She answered.  “It’s still all like a dream.”

“Are you okay with it?”

Molly nodded, biting at her lower lip.  “It’s just…I’ve only ever shared William with you for so long.  And Mycroft of course, but that’s almost visitation.  It’s going to be odd sharing him with another person.  Especially if he doesn’t stay.”  Her brow furrowed in thought.  “What if he gets bored with William?  Do you think he’ll get bored with William?  He doesn’t do sentiment.”

“Yet, he has a child and he’s told you he loves you.”  Dana touched her shoulder.  “Molly,  IVR or no, what he did so you could have William would be considered sentiment.  In his rational mind, or whatever it was, he knew couldn’t give you what he knew you wanted at the time so he gave you the next best thing, the thing he thought would make up for it.  Weird and warped logic, hell yes, but sentiment all the same.”  A grin slid across her face.  “Now,  I’m going to go spy on them.  I want to see what Will’s making him do.”

* * *

 

Sherlock wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he stepped into the back garden but a tall wooden fence surrounding a largish back garden wasn’t it.  There was a big playset towards the back complete with a slide and two swings matching the color of the wooden fence.  To the right of that was a covered matching wooden box.  That was where William was leading him towards. 

“Come see!”  he insisted, tugging on Sherlock’s hand.  He couldn’t help but follow.  He’d already decided the moment those blue green eyes landed on him that he would happily follow this child to hell if he asked.  He was already planning how to rearrange the upstairs bedroom  in 221B for William.  Mrs. Hudson, obviously, would adore him.  They’d do experiments in the kitchen, not on anything dangerous, of course, not at first and he’d teach him the violin.

William was trying to push the lid off of the box and Sherlock helped, easily lifting the side and moving it off the box.  William scrambled in and Sherlock smiled.  The box was a sandpit and inside the sandpit was a decent sized pirate ship complete with crew.  Mindless of his trousers, he sat on the side of the box as William started picking up crew members and telling stories about them.  He handed Sherlock a dark haired crew member and he took it, swinging his legs over and fully getting into the sand pit with William. 

“I wanted to be a pirate when I was about your age.”  He mused.  “I was Yellowbeard and my best friend was Redbeard.”  William scooted closer to him as he picked up the life boat and put his person in it, making it fly with small noises towards Sherlock. 

“Who me?”  he asked before he let out a small fake “nooooo”  as the life boat suddenly  fell out of the air and landed on its bow.  Old memories-new to him after all of these years- floated to the surface and he carefully put his person down as if to help dig out the boat.  William grinned as he dug through the sand with his hands.  The boat was rescued and William held it up triumphantly before handing it to Sherlock.  He took it and put it next to the larger ship, placing his person in it as if it was sailing in the sand alongside. 

“I think…perhaps…you’d be Blackbeard.”  He finally said.  The light in William’s eyes spoke his approval as he crawled towards a place a little bit away from the ship. 

“Tw’sure!”  he announced and Sherlock chuckled.  The memories of he and Victor as children would always have a place in his mind palace, its own room where he could go and revisit after things returned to normal, but it was time to make some new memories with the little boy in front of him. 

“Aye Captain.”  He answered.  “Let’s find that treasure.”

* * *

 

When John stepped out into the garden minutes later, he stopped short in astonishment at the sight of Sherlock, kneeling and hunched in a sand pit laughing and digging at a place in the sand with William’s laughter ringing in the air as the little boy helped dig.  He couldn’t help the smile that crept across his lips as he watched. He could almost hear Mary laughing in delight beside him. 

_Look at our boy John.  Doesn’t he look happy?_

"That he does, my love."

Rosie cooed in his arms and he glanced down at his daughter. 

“How about a swing, Rosie dear?”

William spotted him as he walked towards him and jumped up, all thoughts of treasure hunting forgotten at the sight of his new friend.

“Rosie!  Rosie, swing!  Daddy, come swing!”

Sherlock stood up and climbed out of the sandpit, stopping only to put the cover back on and attempt to wipe some of the sand from his trouser legs.

“He’s got your attention span too.”  John joked as Sherlock walked around to the back of the swing.  William had already maneuvered himself onto the swing and was already swinging his legs in an attempt to start moving. 

“Are you going to continue with this tedious line of teasing for much longer?”  he asked dryly.  John’s grin was the answer he needed. 

“You have no idea how long I can drag this out, mate.”

“Swing!”  William demanded.  On the baby swing next to him, Rosie laughed and squealed in delight as John gently pushed her. 

“Not too high.”  John warned as Sherlock began pushing. 

“I believe I remember how to push a swing.”  Sherlock retorted.  “At least, it’s one of my new resurfaced memories.  I remember pushing a demanding Eurus once.  It didn’t last long because I couldn’t push high enough.”

John’s face clouded over.  “You…you aren’t going to tell her about William, are you?  She couldn’t have known about him, had she I suspect she would’ve used him instead of Molly for that third test.  Your brother and Molly have successfully hidden him from everyone, you telling her about him might not be the best thing right now.”

“I am well aware of the dangers she poses should she find out at this moment.  I also know the dangers she poses if I do not tell her. So the answer is yes, eventually I will need to tell her about him.  But it will be done carefully and in my own time.  I will make deathly sure that she comprehends that he will not ever be touched.”

John nodded solemnly.

“You know this is forever, right?” 

Sherlock looked at his best friend. 

“What?”

John nodded towards William who was laughing with Rosie as he was pushed into the air.  “Him.  No matter how he came here, he’s here.  You know about him now, so he’s yours.  I know how you get with things and people.  You can’t just discard him when you get bored.”

Sherlock looked back at the dark haired boy in the swing laughing as he pushed him. 

“There is no danger of that, John.  I think I now know how you felt the first time you saw Rosie.  I fear from the first moment I saw him he’s managed quite a tight grip on my heart.”

 


	54. Chapter 54

William was in bargaining mode the moment the four came back into the house. 

“No nap.”  He demanded as he peeled off his jacket.

“Yes nap.”  Dana countered before Molly could even say a word.  “Else you’re an insufferable creature.”

“I can relate to that,”  John muttered walking through the kitchen.  “You want me to text Mycroft, Sherlock?” 

William stopped, jacket still in his hand as he stared after John.  “Call Myc?  No.  No go.”

John stopped mid-step, pivoting on his heel to look down at the two year old before looking to Molly who just shrugged. 

“He does listen John.  It might not seem like it but trust me, he hears everything and comprehends most of it.”

“No go.”  William repeated and wandered off to put up his jacket as if the entire matter was settled.  John glanced at Sherlock. 

“What do you want me to do?”

Sherlock looked at Molly.  “What do I do?”

The toddler came back into the kitchen and Molly squatted down, waving to him. 

“William, come here.” 

He bounded to her, stopping in the circle of her arms and knees. 

“Darling, John, Rosie and your dad have to be off.  They have other things to do and I’m sure Rosie needs a nap.”

“Rosie sleep in my room.”  He answered, specifically ignoring the other part of his mother’s statement.  “No go.  Rosie nap here.”

“William…”  she tried again.  His chin jutted out defiantly and eyes grew wide, sparkling with tears. 

“No go.”  He insisted firmly.    
“William.”  Sherlock had knelt down to their level, his head ducked enough that he could catch William’s attention.  “Rosie has a bed in which to sleep.  We don’t want to overtax you with this first visit.  We can always come visit again if you’d like.”

From the comfort of his mother’s arms, William turned the full force of his two year old persuasion on his father.  Fat tears rolled down his cheeks as his lower lip jutted out and trembled. 

“You no stay?”  His voice sounded sad and wibbly.  “Daddy go?”

Sherlock heaved a sigh.  “Oh for… John we’re staying.”

Like magic the tears were gone and William launched a hug at his father who managed to catch him without tumbling over.  Molly sighed as she climbed to her feet. 

“I can’t believe he fell for that.”  She muttered to Dana who was chuckling behind her hand.

“Sherlock level of manipulation at two years of age,”  John nodded.  “Impressive.”

William squealed in delight as Sherlock climbed to his feet, taking his son with him.  “I heard that.”

John grinned.  “You were supposed to.”

Rosie squealed in chorus with William’s laughs reminding everyone she was still in the room also. 

“Well since we seem to be staying for a bit, where can I put her down?”

“If you’ll follow me Doctor Watson, we can accommodate the lovely Miss Watson, I believe.”  Dana said as she led John out of the kitchen. 

William, still hanging onto his father’s neck, turned to grin at Molly. 

“Daddy, J-ohn, Rosie stay.  Go bye ‘morrow.”

“Wait a minute…”

“Fine.  It’s fine.”

Molly stared at him.  This was going way too fast and if she hadn’t known for a fact that this was the first time father and son had met, she’d think they were conspiring against her.

“Don’t you think you should pass that by John first?”

“Do you want to tell our son I’m not staying over?”  An eyebrow rose in question.  William looked at her, his lower lip jutting out slightly in a pout. 

“Fine, but you,”  She pointed at her son who was now grinning happily.  “Absolutely have to take a nap.  And you,”  her finger moved from son to father.  “Have to tell John you’re spending the night.”

Sherlock’s grin was a bit darker and Molly’s breath hitched before she glared sternly. Still grinning, he hitched William up in his arms.

“Come along William, time for nap.” 

She watched her two boys left the kitchen before leaning against the counter wondering where in the world she was going to put two more bodies in this house and how in the world she was going to survive the night.

* * *

 

 

“Kids are down, Dana and I are going down to the shop to pick up essentials.”  John announced as he Dana and Sherlock came down the stairs.  “Sherlock is staying here because honestly you two are driving us up the wall.”

“What?”    
“Wait…”

Molly came around the corner.  Sherlock stopped in the middle of the hallway giving John an odd look. 

“How?”

Dana plucked her keys, wallet, and phone from the  side table and pocketed the three.  “John and I are going to walk.  It’s a nice day, it should take us about an hour would you say?”  The last comment was directed towards John.  He looked Sherlock over smiling smugly. 

“Better make it an hour and a half.”  He answered. 

“We’ll be back in plenty of time before the kids wake up.  For God’s sake, Molls, take care of this!”

“John.”

“It’s for your own good.”

The door shut leaving Sherlock and Molly alone in the house with two sleeping kids. 

“I think we’ve been outmaneuvered.”

Molly looked from the front door to the man still standing at the bottom of the stairs.  They had definitely been outmaneuvered.  She just wasn’t sure who instigated it.  Dana had always been in the camp of letting William know his father but she’d also been party to Molly’s many ups and downs with Sherlock.  Yet throughout all of that Dana had always maintained a positive outlook that one day this man she’d never met would naturally come around to loving both his son and his mother.  She’d been right, but it was still annoying as all hell.  She cleared her throat nervously, desperately trying to think of something to do that didn’t involve standing in a hallway with Sherlock Holmes.  It wasn’t the first time she’d been alone with the Detective in close quarters but it was the first time since he’d told her he loved her…and then told her he meant it.

“I can hear you thinking.”  He said, his voice closer.  She jumped guiltily.  He was standing next to her, his hands clasp behind his back looking down at her. 

“Sorry.  I…I didn’t…I mean…”

He sighed heavily.  “Molly, do stop that.  I had thought we’d moved past you stammering and stuttering every time I spoke.”

She took a calming breath and gave him a look.  “Yes, sorry, fine.  I’m trying not to make it uncomfortable but I guess there’s no way around that, is there?”

“I don’t know why it has to be uncomfortable.  We’re friends Molly Hooper, just now we’re a bit more.”

“Are we?”

He was watching her so intently it was almost suffocating.  He gave a shadow of a smile, obviously seeing what he was looking for in her expression.

“Shall we give this one more try?”

“Wha-Oh.”

Lifting up she met his lips as his head lowered.  This time there was no awkwardness, no breaks in reality, no two year old pushing them into each other only to push them apart. Their mouths fit perfectly against each other and she couldn’t help but to sigh in contentment against his mouth as she took the small step towards him so her body was almost against his.  His hand tightened against her waist, the other reaching up to cradle the back of her head as he shifted against her, his teeth nipping against her lips, his tongue soothing and sliding and persuading to open to him. 

Suddenly she was against the wall, her fingers full of his silky curls and her entire body was on fire.  She was surrounded by him, being pressed against him.  Her entire world was a pinpoint of that moment, the feel of his fingers sliding underneath her jumper to stroke bare skin, his mouth hot and wet against hers.  It was everything she’d ever wanted and more than she thought possible.  The entirety of her surrounded by Sherlock Holmes.

He was the first to pull away, leaving her a little breathless and noticing, with no small amount of pride, that he was breathing heavily.

“Much better.”  He murmured, as his eyes slowly opened to gaze at her.  Her tongue poked out to lick at her lips and she watched his pupils dilate as he watched the movement. 

“We should…probably talk?”  she suggested.  “We really haven’t, not yet, about everything.”

He nodded slowly.  “We should.  Are we quite finished being awkward around each other?”

She couldn’t help the smile that crept across her lips.  “I hope so.  Although I’m sure there’s still a couple of things that are going to be awkward for a while.”

“I’ve no doubt.”  He lowered his head to leave a soft lingering kiss against her lips.  “Molly Hooper.”

“Hmmm?”

“I still mean it.”

Her smile grew brighter. 

* * *

 

 

One hour and fifteen minutes later Dana and John came back into the house ladened with bags and laughing to find Molly and Sherlock in the sitting room.  Sherlock was sitting on the couch dressed in Molly’s old blue dressing gown frowning at a talk show.  Molly was sitting with her back against one of the couch arms reading a book with her legs across Sherlock’s lap.   The scene was both so domestic and completely not what they expected to come into the house to that both paused just outside the entryway of the sitting room. 

“What the…”  Dana stammered. 

“Unfortunately there’s going to be a perfectly valid explanation for this and not at all what we were expecting.” John groused.  Sherlock leaned his head back to look up at John while Molly looked up her book.

“Sherlock had sand all over his trouser legs.”  Molly explained.  “I spot washed them and they’re in the dryer.”

“I was under the impression that wandering around someone else’s house in only my pants was Not Good.”

“Okay, but to be fair,”  Molly continued before the other two could even voice an opinion.  “You have walked around my old flat in only your pants.” Sherlock’s head swiveled to look at her.

“Yes, but at that time there was not a toddler nor a roommate.”

“What…”  Dana repeated. He looked back at Dana and John. 

“You expected us to just start shagging once you left?  Despite the fact that there are two children in this house at the moment, nap or no.  I’m a little disappointed that you would think I’d abandon all decorum for a quick shag, John.”  His eyes glinted in mischief.  “When I finally bed Molly, we’re going to need much longer than an hour.”

Molly blushed and covered her face with a hand. Dana’s hand slapped against her mouth to cover the choked bark of laughter as John shook his head and turned on his heel to head towards the kitchen. 

“At least tell me you talked.”  He yelled back. 

“Of course we talked!”  Sherlock yelled back.  Molly poked at his thigh with her foot

“The kids are sleeping.”  Molly reminded him. He lifted her legs from his lap and stood up.  Dana choked back another snicker as he rose to his full height, the dressing gown stopping just at his bare knees. He stalked past her and into the kitchen where John was. 

“Why would you think we would shag instead of talking like adults?”  they heard Sherlock ask. 

“Because most of the time you aren’t an adult.”  John shot back.  Molly gave a still snickering Dana a knowing look.    
“You wanted to know what it was like having Sherlock Holmes in your life.”  She said.

 


	55. Chapter 55

The rest of the evening went smoothly and bed assignments were handed out.  John was offered the fold out in the nursery where Rosie would be sleeping.  Sherlock was offered Molly’s room, the small cough by Dana was ignored and Molly said she’d take the couch.  The other small cough was ignored.  William insisted that he wanted to sleep on the other couch in the sitting room with Molly.

Dinner was had, William and Rosie were bathed and changed,  Rosie was put down at her regular time and William drug down his pillow, blanket and stuffed dog.  He was tucked into the couch and had fallen asleep an hour after his normal bedtime.

Everyone went to their beds, not before Sherlock was able to take one last kiss in private from Molly.

* * *

 

As usual, Rosie was awake with the sun.  John was downstairs in the still quiet house, talking to her quietly as he made up her breakfast when he heard footsteps in the hallway.  Still stirring up her oatmeal as she drank her bottle, he spotted William’s bare bottom staggering towards the back loo.

A moment later he spotted Sherlock walking down the stairs dressed only in a sheet and yawning loudly. 

“Rough night?”  John asked leaning against the entryway.  Sherlock snorted as he passed him. 

“Need to buy her better sheets.  These are itchy.”  He muttered.  John reached out and tugged on a part of the sheet he was positive wasn’t necessary to keep the sheet up.  Sherlock stopped immediately. 

“Wait, you have to see this.” 

The flush of the toilet had Sherlock poking his head back around the corner.  William stumbled back down the hallway dressed only in a sleep top yawning widely.  John smirked. 

“I’m going to start calling him Junior.”

“Where are your pants?” 

William stopped in mid step blinking sleepily at Sherlock walking down the hall covered in a sheet.

“Why you wear that?”

“Never mind that, you can’t be running about half naked.”

“Why?  You do.”  John quipped. 

“I pee.”  William stated. 

“Your pants?”

“No.  In way.”

“Come along,”  He scooped the boy up and started back up the stairs.  “Let’s find you some clean pants. Might as well get dressed while we’re at it.”

John snorted a soft laugh as he reentered the kitchen.  Rosie had finished her bottle and was now eyeing the oatmeal in his hands.  Pulling out a chair, he scooped out a spoonful and fed her. 

“I’m willing to be that within the week your new friend will take to walking around the house in only a sheet.”

 

* * *

 

 

An hour later everyone was awake, dressed and gathered in the kitchen for breakfast.  William was sitting in his usual chair poking at his eggs with a fork while Sherlock sat next to him, sipping coffee and contemplating his mobile.  Molly leaned against the counter with her own cup of coffee and watched her little makeshift family. 

Rosie was in John’s arms as John and Dana talked about baby stuff.  She watched her son sneaking peeks at the man sitting next to him as if trying to make a decision.  It was made rather quickly, she assumed, as the toddler climbed from his chair and sidled up next to Sherlock’s chair.  Sherlock silently scooped William up and set him in his lap.  Reaching one arm out, he pulled William’s plate closer to him so the boy could eat, all while never taking his eyes from the mobile.  William leaned back against his father’s chest, picked up a piece of toast and munched on it as his eyes landed on whatever it was Sherlock was reading. 

Molly took another sip of her coffee, hiding a smile behind the cup.  Three years ago when she started this venture, she never thought this is where she would end up.  Despite the fear, the loss, the discoveries made along this journey, right now, in this house in her kitchen warmed with the morning sun and the soft sounds of family, she thinks that she wouldn’t want it any other way.

 

 


	56. Chapter 56

 

**Epilogue**

 

_3 years later…_

 

“Dana!”

The loud voice of the almost four/almost five year old bellowed through the kitchen and the woman sighed.

“Quit yelling in the house!”  she yelled back, her hands full of cookie dough. 

William hurried into the kitchen, pausing only momentarily when he spotted what Dana is doing. 

“Cookies?”  He asked, his blue-green eyes sparkling in excitement.  “Chocolate chip?”

“Sugar.  It isn’t your birthday, brat.”

Pulling out one of the stools on the other side of the island he climbed up on it, considering the dough. 

“If I can convince Rosie that she likes chocolate chip, can you make those too?”  he asked.

Dana glanced up at the boy, all bright inquisitive eyes.  His dark hair, a curly mop on his head, was starting to touch the lower back of his neck which meant it was almost time to go back to the barber. 

“You know Rosie hates chocolate chip so I hardly think you’ll convince her they’re her new favorite.  Luckily for you, I think you’re cute and already made some up last night after you went to bed.”

Blue eyes lit up again.  “You did?  Can I have one?”

“Not until the party.  Now why are you bellowing through the house?”

“Oh, Mummy’s sick.”  His tenacity at certain things that fascinated him as well as his absolute forgetfulness when something important caught his attention was just mindboggling.  She had no idea how Molly did it.  But then again, Dana assumed it came from dealing with William’s father for so many years.

“Sick?”  Dana frowned.  Molly hardly ever got sick.  William nodded. 

“I knocked on her door and I could hear her being sick.”  He stuck out a hand and poked at the bowl.  “This is the third day she’s done it.”

Dana’s frown deepened.  “Why didn’t you tell me sooner then?”

William shrugged, poking at the bowl again before looking around the kitchen.  “Are you gonna see what’s wrong?”

She’s fine Will, it’s probably a bug.”

William’s nose wrinkled and he slid off the stool.  “Where’s your mobile?”

“You don’t need my mobile.”

“I wanna call Dad.”

“Use your Mum’s.”

William’s nose wrinkled up again.  “Last time I used Mummy’s mobile to call Dad he said something weird to me before he found out it was me.”

Dana choked back a laugh before nodding to the right of her.  “Ring him in here, he’s six on my speed dial.”

He climbed back up onto the stool, almost five and already taller than most of his classmates, and pulled her mobile towards him.  Dana washed her hands before getting ready to transfer the dough to the cookie sheets listening to William’s conversation with his father. 

“Mummy’s ill.  She’s been sick for three days… no, when we wake up, I hear her…”  Legs swung against the stool as his head bounced around to some unheard music.  “Maybe…yes…I don’t know…”  His nose wrinkled for a third time and he rolled his eyes- the second thing he learned from his father, the first being wandering around the house when he woke up completely wrapped in a top sheet. “Maybe?  I asked yesterday but she said she ate something off.  Okay, when is Rosie coming?  Dana’s making cookies.  That’s too long, can’t you guys come now?  I’m bored Daddy, I wanna see Rosie.  Fine.  Bye.”

He slid the mobile back with a pout.  “They won’t be here until lunch.”

“You could look at your words then.”  Dana suggested.  William shrugged. 

“Know them already.  Can I build?”

“Fine, but you have to clean up before the party.”

Molly walked into the kitchen looking a little pale.  Dana and William looked at her, the latter sliding off the stool to hug her.  Her hands went over his head, patting at his hair. 

“You’re getting a bit shaggy luv, we might have to take you to the barber soon.”

“You better?”

“Fine baby, I just ate something wrong last night.”

“You said that yesterday too.”  He pointed out.  She smiled down at him. 

“I’m the Mum here, not you.  I’m fine sweetheart, promise.”

“How about some tea.”  Dana suggested.  “You really don’t look well.”

“Just feeling a bit poorly, it’ll pass soon.  What are you making?”

“Sugar cookies for Rosie’s party today.  Made chocolate chip last night.”

“Those are for me!”  William added.  Molly wrinkled her nose. 

“Ugh, cookies don’t even sound good right now.  I might have some toast though.”

William watched his mother move around the kitchen worriedly, thoughts of building in the sitting room forgotten for the moment.

* * *

 

The front door opened and John’s voice was heard in the entry way followed by Rosie’s excited yell for William.  The boy raced through the hallway, grinning wildly. 

“Rosie!” 

The three-year-old blonde girl was all bright smiles and blue eyes as she shucked off her coat and ran towards her best friend. 

“Will!”  She threw her arms around his waist for a hug and he allowed it. 

“I three!”

“Dana made cookies!”

“Cookies!”  The youngest Watson was ecstatic.

Sherlock was the last to enter the house, closing the door behind him.  “William, where’s your mother?

“Her room.  The cookie smell made her sick again.”

John looked back at his friend, eyebrows raised.  “Sherlock…”

“Not sure yet.  But I’d say most probably.”

He passed by the kids in the hallway, slowing only to drop a pat on William’s head before he took the stairs, two at a time, to the second floor.  Dana, who was coming out of Molly’s room, stopped short when she saw Sherlock. 

“You just get here?”

“How is she?”

“Better.  She swears she had some bad duck last night.”

“Doubt it.”  He brushed past Dana and stepped into Molly’s room. 

She was pulling on a shirt when he stepped into the room. 

“Oh, I didn’t know it was that late.”  She glanced at the clock on her nightstand. 

“You’ve been ill?”  He clasped her arms, looking her over. 

“It’s just some bad food.  I’ll be right as rain soon enough.”

“Hmmm, it’s not food.”  He dropped a quick kiss on her lips before pulling a package from his inner coat pocket and handing it to her.  “Take this.  Right now.  They can start without us.”

“Take…what…” Perplexed, she took the package from him and opened the bag.  Her cheeks flamed when she realized what she was looking at.  “Sherlock, I hardly think...”

“You wouldn’t know.  It takes four minutes.”  The second kiss he gave her lingered a bit longer.  Then he turned her by her shoulders and gently pushed her towards the loo.  “Go take the test.”

She stopped, grabbing his hand, nervous eyes looking up at him.  “Stay with me, will you?  I’m…I can’t do this alone, not this time.”

He smiled.  “There’s no place else I’d rather be.”

 

* * *

 

William and Rosie were in the sitting room playing with the large blocks, building forts and then knocking them down.  Rosie’s peals of laughter echoed through the house. 

“Ah, I miss baby laughter.”  Dana sighed.  She and John were in the kitchen listening to the kids play.  “Will doesn’t usually laugh, not like that anymore.  If he does, usually it’s over body noises.”

John snickered.  “He is a boy.  Body noises are funny.”

Footsteps caught their attention as Molly, still a bit pale, stepped into the kitchen followed by Sherlock.  John and Dana shared a look.

“You okay Molls?”  John asked, putting his cup on the counter and heading towards her. 

“I hardly know.”  She blinked and looked at both Dana and John.  “Um…good news, it isn’t food poisioning.”

“Good?”  Dana said.  John looked at Sherlock. 

“Are you serious?”

Sherlock nodded and John laughed.  Molly took a deep breath.

“Dana.  How would you feel about sticking around for a bit longer?”

“Pardon?”  Her eyes went to Molly’s stomach and she grinned.  “Are you…”

“I’ll have to set an appointment on Monday, but I think so, yeah.”

Dana squealed, hurrying over to give Molly a hug.

“I was just telling John I missed the sound of baby laughter in this house.”  She pulled back and looked Molly over.  “Oh Will is going to be thrilled!  Wait, no IVR this time, right?’

Molly chuckled, shaking her head.  “No.  Completely natural this time.”

John grinned at his best friend.  “You know, John is a perfectly nice name.”

Sherlock smirked.  “We’re not naming our daughter John.”

“If it is a girl,” Dana said.  Sherlock shrugged noncommittally. 

“Well, whatever you have,” John said as the sound of running kids came nearer.  “I hope this one takes more after Molly.  One clone of you is quite enough.”

William and Rosie raced into the kitchen to demand that the adults come see their masterpieces.  John scooped his daughter up which sent her into giggling fits while William tugged on Molly’s arm. 

“Go ahead, we’ll catch up.”  She told them.  Sherlock held back to give her a look.  She gave a reassuring smile as she looked down at her son.  Almost five and already enrolled in a gifted private school.  She had a suspicion he already knew what was happening.  He slowed his steps to give her a curious look. 

“We should talk.”

“Gwynnie’s mummy was sick all the time for a while.  Her daddy would have to bring her to school.  Then she told us she was going to be a big sister.”  Blue green eyes narrowed in thought.  “Am I getting my own Rosie?”

Here she was worried he wouldn’t understand.  “You’re getting your own someone.  Are you okay with becoming a big brother?”

His smile was the only answer she needed.  He hugged her waist.  “I’ll be like Uncle Myc.”

“Don’t be like your Uncle Mycroft.”  Sherlock said.  William, his arms still around his mother’s waist, turned his head to look at his father. 

“Are you going to stay here all the time now?”

“Would you like me to stay all the time now?”

William nodded.  Sherlock chanced a look at Molly before answering. 

“Your mother and I will need to talk about it but it could be a possibility.”

“Will the baby have your name?  Can I have your name too?”

“Again, your mother and I will need to talk but I’d like that, yes.  As will, I’d wager, your grandparents.”

William grinned happily.  A grin that quickly fell when the sound of falling blocks came from the sitting room.  He let go of his mother and rushed out of the kitchen. 

“Watson!”  he yelled. 

“Oh Christ!”  They heard John exclaim from the other room.  Molly giggled and Sherlock merely shook his head in amusement.

No matter what the future held, everything was going to be just fine.

 

 

* * *

 

**AN:  That's it folks.  Again, I want to thank and give virtual hugs to everyone who read, kudoed, review, squealed, and critiqued this story.  When I started it I honestly thought it would get a couple of kudos and a review or two.  I never expected the outpouring of positive comments I've gotten for this.  I'm overwelmed and honestly more than a little verklempt.  There've been days where I just grin like a fool at the comment.  So, thank you all from the bottom of my heart.  :)**

 (There is an idea of doing a one off parent!lock with the newest generation of Holmes' and Watson when they're all a bit older.)

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first foray into a multi-chapter Sherlolly fic. And yes, it's a kid fic. And yes, it's a very slow burn. I do happily accept comments and criticisms. As long as said criticism is not in the realm of "You suck! Stop writing!" And this is not at all Brit-crit so all misplaced slang is my own doing. Please let me know so I can correct it in future chapters.


End file.
